Warmth
by Are-san
Summary: All it takes is one moment of vulnerability, one moment, and you're a goner. Warnings for slash and disturbing scenes including violence and attempted rape.
1. Chapter 1

All it takes is one moment of vulnerability, one moment, and you're a goner. You'll be trapped and lost forever in the swirl of dark blue eyes, in a sympathetic gaze that doesn't condemn you. No, instead it tries to understand you.

Jason didn't want to be understood, he didn't want to be cared for, he just wanted to _be. _He could care less about anything else.

But when you've already found yourself in that vulnerable moment and right across from you is a man who has just enough experience, and just enough compassion to maybe, just maybe, be able to take a piece of your pain away, you're lost to it. The moment takes your breath away.

"Jay?" his voice will never have the rough edge that Batman's does. Dick has always been softer than Bruce, always been open and affectionate and Jason has told himself a thousand times that he hates him for it. No one should go through what they had gone through, no one should suffer and still be able to smile like he did. It wasn't fair.

Jason didn't smile anymore…

/

The streets of Gotham were unforgiving at the best of times and even more so at the worst. He didn't know how he'd been caught off guard, but he'd messed up and he had the bruises and the cuts to prove it.

There were all kinds of sickos in Gotham. Some were conventionally violent, wanted to beat you, make you bleed.

Some were worse than that. Some got more than just a bloodthirsty thrill.

Some of them got off on it.

Those were the types that Jason saved special demises for.

But he'd messed up this time, and now he was staring groggily up at a pair of watery eyes as he was poked and prodded at, a knife nicking his skin at various points on his body, leaving trails of sticky blood. His blood wasn't clotting like it should be, his mind felt slow and sluggish. Whatever drugs he'd been given seemed to be slowing everything down, making him feel weak and dizzy, but he could still feel the pain clearly. Each cut of the knife was a new lesson in agony, slowing grinding through skin, just deep enough to ache and bleed. And then there was a tongue, wet and vulgar, lapping at the drops, making him feel sick. He had to get away, had to get his gun, his knife, had to cut this bastard's head off and make him suffer. But he couldn't even move, could barely whine in protest.

The torture continued, and all he could do was pray for it to end, delving into dark parts of his mind for escape. He went places in his thoughts that he didn't want to, going over regrets and broken promises he'd made himself. It was all so unfair, and it all hurt so much. He missed the empty embrace of death, like a child missed their mother's arms around them. Death hadn't hurt this much.

His last thought as his captor's pants came down was _'Bruce… help me, please…'_

/

There was noise and colour, a flash of black that made his chest ache for a moment, but then he caught the flash of blue and he realized that his saviour was not in fact the dark knight of Gotham.

It was Nightwing.

The next few minutes were lost to the delirium of a drug induced stupor. There was the scratch of a knife against body armour, the impact of a gloved hand to flesh. More impacts, a loud crash. Then warmth, an ungloved hand on his face, feeling his forehead, and cupping his cheek.

"Jesus, Jason, what did he do to you?"

Was that… concern? It almost sounded like it. It was close enough to leave a warm burn in Jason's chest, like when you hold your breath too long and desperately need to breath. Those warm hands released him from his restraints, a firm body lifting and holding him. There was something being wrapped around him, a sheet maybe? And then there was movement, the world shifting around him, and he groaned at the dizziness that consumed him. He didn't last long through the trip, blacking out somewhere between point A and point B. The darkness of oblivion was so very welcome then that he would have happily stayed there forever.

/

"Jay?"

Those eyes, damn those eyes, damn his vulnerability. He'd give anything for none of this to have happened.

"What do you want, Dick?" he growled, the sound weak, more disgruntled that threatening and Dick's smile was wide and relieved.

"For a couple minutes there I was worried you weren't waking up. I had no idea what he'd drugged you with." He said, sitting down with an honestly happy look on his face. Jason didn't understand, frowning sharply. Why would Batman's golden boy be so worried about him that he would _smile _like that when he found out he was okay?

He sat up slowly, holding onto his pounding head with a groan. Whatever he'd been dosed with left one hell of a hangover. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants that were just a little short and tight around his thighs. He'd always been thicker built than Dick, but the fact that the former Robin had dressed him and tended to him this way made his stomach squirm with humiliation.

Dick's hand was there on his shoulder, squeezing gently and halting his movement. He glared at the unwanted touch, wincing as the expression made his headache worse.

"Whoa, Jay. Just lay down okay? I don't know how much of that stuff is still in your system..." He said, eyes on Jason's face, intent and focused and Jason would give anything to make him _look away._

"Yeah, yeah. You saved my ass, I get it. Now let me go, I don't need you hovering I just need to go home and sleep." He said, voice lacking its usual edge, because he was tired, because he was weak and because he just didn't have the strength to fight when Dick's hands pushed his chest back down on the bed. He realized then that they must be in Dick's apartment, and it only made the squirming in his stomach worse to know that he was sleeping in his would-be brother's bed, being tended to like a child.

"Jay… Look, just rest, alright? Sleep. Heal. I have to do some stuff, but I'll be back in a bit, and don't even think about running off. In your condition you'd just fall out of my window and kill yourself. Stay, alright? I won't be long."

For a moment or two, Jason thought that the idea of falling out the window didn't sound so bad. But he was so tired that even such a short walk to the window seemed like too much trouble. So he did as Dick told him, closing his eyes and falling asleep and setting aside the squirming emotions for a later time.

/

"Yeah, he woke up, he seems okay…" he said, sighing a bit and listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. "Bruce, I told you this so that you wouldn't worry. I hardly think a visit from overbearing Daddy Bat is going to help him out right now." Then there were muffled angry tones and Dick scowled. "You didn't see what happened, Bruce, you don't know what was about to happen! I'll be damned if you're going to barge in here and torture his already shaky psyche with your love/hate thing! He's family to me too, dammit, and you can't take care of him anymore!"

There was silence for several moments and finally Dick sighed. "I knew you would hear about it sooner or later, and that's why I told you now. But this isn't something you can fix, okay? Let me focus on Jay, you focus on your mission. You're better at that."

He hung up before Bruce could reply, tossing the phone aside and returning to his room to check on Jason. The younger man was deeply asleep and Dick sighed again with relief. It would have been bad if Jason heard him talking to Bruce. Any mention of the man already sent Jay into spirals of rage, and Dick couldn't deal with that right now.

He was shaky as he went out to sit on the couch, running a hand over his face and feeling his breathing hitch as the memories hit him again. That sick, sick, twisted man, pants around his ankles, leaning over Jason's prone and helplessly naked body with a look on his face that promised only perverse and horrifying torture.

He didn't think he'd ever hit anyone harder. He'd nearly killed him. It was only the slightest sliver of moral light shining into his mind that stopped him. Still, the man was a pulp now, and wouldn't likely be doing that to anyone again.

Jason was cut all over, streaked with dried blood and saliva and looking entirely worse for wear. Dick hadn't been prepared for the surge of protectiveness in his chest, for the sudden deep hatred for the already well bloodied man at his feet. He'd been delicate, almost tender in his handling of Jason, of getting him home and tending his injuries. There was nothing really serious but Dick was still tense with worry, pacing back and forth beside the bed until Jason had woken up. He hadn't been prepared for the quick surge of relief and joy when his eyes opened either. It was too much, too fast and he'd pushed it aside because Jason was so much more important.

As he sat there on the couch alone now, he let the emotions wash over him, the pain and the worry and the bone deep relief that left him weak. He didn't want to think about _why _this was all so overwhelming. For now it was enough that his brother was okay.

Jason was okay.

/

The second time he woke up his head hurt a lot less, and he was ravenous. His memory returned to him faster as he looked around and took in his surroundings. He knew where he was, he knew who was likely to be there, and he could prepare for that, he could brace himself. He looked beside the bed and _almost _wanted to smile. Almost.

Dick had left breakfast for him. Or lunch, or dinner. What the hell time was it anyway? He glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just after midnight, he'd slept a long time. So it was more like a midnight snack then. He wasn't going to complain. He bit into the sandwich voraciously, groaning happily as he ate. It went down quickly and he drained the water beside it just as fast, breathing out a satisfied sigh and feeling world's better. Nothing quite like food to make a guy feel okay for a minute.

The feeling didn't last long, of course. There was still the impending mental trauma of being tortured and molested for god knew how long, and then saved by the Batman's golden boy just before he would have gotten raped. He got up carefully, wondering now where his 'saviour' was. Jason was obviously in his bed, and with it being so late… Was Nightwing out on patrol, or sleeping?

A short, unsteady walk out to the living room answered that question pretty fast. Dick was sleeping on the couch, wrapped up in a thin sheet and hugging a pillow like it he was trying to smother it. Jason frowned, thinking. He could try to leave now, could probably slip away while Dick was sleeping and leave this whole mess behind him. But something stilled him, made him hesitate.

Batman's training was good for a few things. One of them being that you never really slept deeply, and you could almost always tell when you were being watched. Dick opened his eyes and sat up quickly, looking directly at Jason with his body tensed defensively. He relaxed a little when he processed who it was, looking Jason up and down to examine his condition. He was bandaged thoroughly but his movements didn't seem hindered and his eyes weren't glazed like they had been.

Dick let a smile stretch over his face, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, you're up." He said, pointing out the obvious with a grin and running a hand through his hair. "Did you eat?"

Jason felt a little stunned, not sure what to do now under the scrutiny of those ocean blue eyes. "Yeah, I did." He answered simply, drawing his eyes away, staring fixedly at the wall.

Dick's smile remained intact, getting up and stretching. "We should change those bandages since you're up." He said, stepping towards Jason, frowning when the younger man took a step back, as if alarmed.

"I'm fine. Stop fussing over me!" he said. There was a hint of panic to his tone, a note of desperation. He didn't understand this concern, this warmth emanating from someone he told himself he should hate. Bruce had always loved Dick more than him, after all. If Dick had been the one Bruce had lost to the Joker than there was no doubt in Jason's mind that Joker would be dead.

Jason thought to himself in weak moments that if Bruce had loved him half as much maybe he wouldn't hate everything so deeply… Maybe he would be able to smile like Dick does…

Dick looked at him with those damn open, _caring _eyes. Why did he care so much? Why did Jason matter to him? Why did he have to stand there that way, looking so damn sad and making Jason feel things like this.

He didn't want to feel.

Feelings _hurt._

"Jay, I'm not going to hurt you or anything, okay? I just want to change your bandages and then you can go. I promise to leave you alone after if that's all you want…" Why did he have to sound so wistful when he said that?

"Fine." Jason said, voice sharp, closing his eyes and relaxing his guard enough to let Dick approach him.

So warm, the hands that moved over him, tugging at bandages with such gentleness, like he expected Jason to shatter under them like glass. He should feel insulted by the implication. He wasn't delicate, he wasn't going to break. But…

The last memory he had of someone touching him was of a rapist's mouth molesting his skin, of the cold metal of a knife. Dick wasn't cold. Dick was the very essence of warmth, rough hands skimming healing skin, rewrapping with fresh bandages over the parts that needed it. The cuts being shallow, most of them were sealed and didn't need the bandaging, but some remained that required attention.

Dick's expression was tense as he tended to Jason, like his injuries made him angry. It only confused the younger more that Dick could feel that way about something that had happened to him. This all felt surreal. Dick's hands soothed hurts that Jason hadn't realized were there, his healer's hands seeming to stroke into Jason's soul. He hadn't realized how much he missed being touched, just _touched. _Instead of being hit, being attacked, being hurt. To just feel this, it was like Dick was saving him again, but he didn't know what he was being saved from.

Dick's fingers lingered, just a few moments longer then they should. The silence stretched on, a moment that neither of them dared to break. Jason, for a sudden, desperate moment, dreaded when Dick would move away from him, when he would lose that warmth, that _touch._

Then a soft mouth pressed ever-so gently to a scar on Jason's shoulder, pulling away as quickly as it had been there, soft as the touch of butterfly wings.

Jason's eyes stung and he had to pull away, had to get away. He wasn't supposed to feel this way.

"Jay…" Dick's eyes were so very sad when Jason walked away from him, gathering his clothes, getting ready to leave. "Jay, you don't have to go. You can stay." He said, standing in the doorway of his bedroom and looking over at the younger man's silhouette in the window.

"No. I can't." He said, voice strained with emotions, so many emotions, so much _feeling._

"Thank you… Dick." He spoke the name in a tone that was nearly reverent, and then he was gone, a breath of air through the window and Dick was left to stand alone, wondering at the empty feeling that was left in his chest.

"Jay…"

/

**A/N: I'm dipping my toe back in, might take the full plunge and turn this into a series. Something about the two eldest Robins really gets to me. Probably because I myself am a lot like both of them. Anyways, I'm obsessed with these two, let me know what you think of how I've portrayed them and whether you'd like to see more of this in a series.**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three months now.

Three months since Dick had saved Jason. Three months since he'd nursed him, bandaged him, brought warmth back to his cold body with damnably warm hands.

Without those hands now Jason felt cold and empty. He'd spent the last three months off of vigilante work, unable to focus when his mind kept straying to what had happened, what had _almost _happened. He felt dirty, but that was nothing new. _Helpless. _That was a feeling he wasn't used to. Every guy he fought flashed him back to those watery eyes, full of sick desire for him. He kept messing up, and it nearly killed him a couple times before he just stopped, hiding himself in his flat and only going out to drink himself into a stupor.

He'd taken to fucking girls from the bar, just to feel in control again, just to try to cleanse away the feeling of that knife, those hands and tongue. It never worked. He always left when he was finished, not caring the slightest bit about whatever slut had just been moaning under him. It didn't matter. He felt no better, his work was being interfered with, his mind itself was betraying him.

He didn't know what to do.

He wanted to see Nightwing…

_No_, he didn't want to see Dick. He absolutely did not. Dick couldn't _fix_ him; he wasn't a damn miracle worker, despite what it might have felt like that day.

Despite the warmth that had touched him for just a few briefs moments, despite the feeling almost like he belonged, like he could have stayed. No, it was just the illusion of a mind that was still in shock and recovering from drugs and trauma. After all, he was dead, he didn't belong anywhere anymore.

But for a second, he'd almost felt home again.

It hurt so much to know it wasn't real.

/

"You just let him go?"

That voice was deceptively calm, but Dick knew how to hear the anger simmering under the indifferent tone. He knew that Batman was pissed. But he wasn't in the mood to play the chastised underling today.

"Yeah, I did. I wasn't going to force him to stay against his will. I made the offer for him to stay, he didn't accept it." He said, uncovered eyes glaring at Batman's masked ones. "Some people shouldn't be forced, especially when they're likely traumatized."

"All the more reason for you to have at least followed him. No one's heard any activity from him in three months…" Ah, so there was the worry, the father figure under the bat cowl.

Dick sighed. "You… you don't understand, okay? You're always in control, you don't know what it's like to suddenly feel… helpless. It takes a serious toll. He needs to deal with it. If he needs someone then I'll be there, but I'm not going to force it. That will only make it worse. He needs someone to understand, not someone to command him."

Bruce scowled a little, looking at Dick with suspicion behind those white lenses. "You know what it's like to feel helpless, do you?"

Dick didn't waver, even under the scrutiny of the bat glare. "I do. I probably understand what he's feeling better than anyone right now…"

He didn't go into details, he wouldn't. He'd made his peace with what happened and he wasn't going back into that dark place.

Batman didn't push him for an explanation. Maybe he was learning.

"If you won't let me do anything about it, at least look for him." He said, sighing deeply. "If I know Jason, and I _did _once, he won't ask for help. You have to go to him."

"… Alright. I'll find him, okay?"

Bruce nodded, a dismissal, and for once Dick didn't mind being dismissed. He put his mask back on, heading out into the night, the darkness which enveloped him like the arms of an old friend.

It wasn't a patrol night tonight, Batman and Robin had the streets covered tonight.

Tonight was about him finding Jason.

/

The bar was loud and dirty, trash metal playing in ear rattling loud volumes while the mostly male patrons sat around the bar and drank with surly looks on their faces. Jason fit in there just fine, scowling into the bottom of his glass and wishing the alcohol would take his troubled thoughts away. No one paid attention to him here, no women approached him, no one tried to strike up conversations. That was why he was there tonight. He just wanted to be left alone.

There was a murmur through the bar patrons as someone walked in the door, a whisper of disapproval that pervaded the place. This was a place for brooding and melancholy, but the young man who'd just walked through the door wasn't taking part in either.

Dick Grayson was a sunbeam in the dark establishment, wearing a bright red t-shirt and worn blue jeans, a casual smile on his face like the world was his personal joke. Jason stiffened when he saw him, knowing that it was no coincidence that he was here. The leanly muscled man sauntered over to Jason's side, sitting himself on the stool beside him and ordering a drink. The bartender frowned at Dick's smiling face but took his money and made the drink, setting it in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Grayson?" Jason muttered, throwing back the rest of his drink and glaring over at his older brother.

Dick smiled a bit, an edge behind his eyes. "I'm here to check in on you. Something wrong with that?" he asked. There was a challenge in his voice that was distinctly pushing his buttons and Jason growled.

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

Jason turned his head to glare at Dick more directly, their gazes meeting in a clash of blue that Jason was the first to look away from. "Did Bruce send you here?" he asked, a snarl in his tone.

"Yes. But I would have come anyway." The edge was gone, replaced by something else. Jason looked at Dick and saw a weariness in his eyes, a tightness around the corners of his mouth that he'd missed before.

"Dick… I'm fine, alright? You shouldn't be here."

Dick looked at him, sipping his drink quietly and keeping his silence for a few moments. "I need to be here." He said finally, forcing a confused look from Jason.

"What do you want?"

There was more silence while Jason waited for the answer, staring at Dick for several long minutes. Dick sighed and knocked back the rest of his drink. "I don't want to talk about this here, Jay. The music is giving me a headache, can we go somewhere else?"

Jason opened his mouth to say no, to tell Dick that if he didn't like the place he could leave, but the words didn't leave his lips. Dick's face spoke of pain, spoke of emptiness and … _helplessness. _Everything Jason felt, reflected on the older man's face with heart wrenching clarity.

"Fine…" He sighed, paying his tab and pulling away from the bar, leading Dick out, lighting a cigarette when they were outside, using it as an excuse to not look at the other man. He walked them both in silence to his flat, wrestling with the lock for a couple minutes before they were finally inside. Dick looked around as they stepped in, taking in the sparse furniture and blank walls. It was relatively clean, for a guy's space, but it seemed more like that was due to a lack of stuff, rather than effort on Jason's part. _Spartan _seemed like an understatement.

"Alright, Dick, talk." He said, looking away from the other man, scowling darkly. He couldn't believe he was going along with this. He didn't want to be around the Bat's golden boy. It made him angry, to think that Bruce had sent him here, that he was just playing the concerned brother to put him at ease.

"Jay…" Dick's voice pleaded for him to look at him and the younger man forced his gaze to turn. What he saw made his breath hitch.

Dick was standing there, just Dick, without any of Nightwing's cockiness or Batman's poise. It was just Dick, looking at him with open, hurting eyes and holding his arms out helplessly at his sides. He looked so damn vulnerable that Jason almost stepped towards him, almost.

"I know." He said, dark blue eyes sad and deep. "I know what you've been through. I know what you're feeling."

Jason gritted his teeth, turning his head away, unable to handle Dick's open expression. "Yeah? How the hell do you know what I've been through, huh?"

Dick stiffened, pain sparking in his eyes and he closed them. "I know, alright? I know what it's like to make a mistake, to be stripped of power and unable to say no… to just lay there and take it because you really have no choice. Totally helpless…"

Jason's eyes widened and he looked back at Dick, his mouth going dry with the realization. "But… someone stopped it… right?"

Dick opened his eyes, shaking his head slowly. "No. Not for me, Jay."

Jason felt stricken, shocked. There was no way that something like that could happen to Dick, no way.

Dick was the golden boy. Dick was the loved one. Dick was the one that Batman would protect no matter what. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to him, if bad things could happen to Dick then it completely shattered everything Jason had assumed about how their messed up family worked. If Dick could get hurt like that then maybe Bruce really was only human, could make mistakes and really did just want to protect all of them…

He shook his head, no, he couldn't start thinking that now, couldn't change anything now, he was too far gone. There was no going home, no turning back.

But looking at Dick… was it really?

"You…" Jason was at a loss. What could he say to that?

Dick smiled sadly at him. "It's alright, Jay. I came to terms with it. There's a peace to be made with it." He said, sighing and stepping closer. "I know it's not easy, dealing with what you're feeling right now. But it gets better, and you don't have to do it alone like I did."

Jason stood, staring at him, eyes open for once, and lost. This changed everything, changed the dynamic, and he didn't know how to catch his footing again. "Dick…"

"Shh." Dick hushed him, stepping into his younger brother's space and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in against his strong chest. Jason stiffened, about to pull away forcefully and panic, but Dick's voice stopped him. "Tell you what… You and I, our whole family really, we're messed up. We're pretty well screwed in the relationship department. But how about for tonight none of that matters. The past doesn't matter, tomorrow doesn't matter. Jason and Dick don't matter. Right now, we're just two people. Two people who don't have any obligation to anything, who are just here. We can just _be. _We don't have to live up to anything. How does that sound?"

If Jason was honest, it sounded amazing. To not have a name, to not have a past, to just exist alongside someone else with no expectations whatsoever, what could he really object to. So he didn't. Jason would have objected, Jason would have pulled away from Dick's embrace and forced him to leave, would have been humiliated and want to get away at any cost. But he didn't want to be Jason, he didn't want Jason's baggage and pain, he didn't want Jason's feelings. He just wanted to be. So he relaxed into Dick's hold, face buried in the older man's shoulder, breath shuddering as his arms went around to cling to Dick's back.

Dick smiled, resting his head on Jason's hair, breathing in the scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke mixed with Jason's shampoo. They stood that way for a long time, the minutes ticking by without care. They were just two people, holding on to each other and riding out a storm of emotions that were too much for either of them to handle alone. Jason felt so young. He felt like the child he had once been, clinging to Bruce's neck as he fell asleep, too tired and too content to care about how open his affections were towards his father figure. But this wasn't Bruce, and it wasn't the same, it was more somehow, then what that feeling had been.

He pulled away just a little, tipping his head up to look at Dick, their eyes catching and holding there. The world could have toppled around them and it wouldn't have mattered. Dick was still. This was for Jason, Jason called the shots. So when Jason leaned up and closed the space between their lips, Dick didn't protest and only responded. A certain tension seemed to break free as their lips moved together, slowly, almost sweetly. There was no roughness that could be expected from the two of them. If Dick and Jason were to kiss it would be rough, it would be desperate and unchaste, but tonight they weren't Dick and Jason, and how they would be didn't matter. All that mattered was the warmth in the younger man's chest that spread and tingled through him, cleansing away the hurt.

When Jason deepened the kiss Dick went with it, a little surprised when the younger didn't immediately move to dominate, just moving his tongue smoothly with Dick's, letting the older man have the reigns. It took a moment for Dick to understand what Jason needed from him, and the realization stung his eyes a little.

Jason had been fucking women without care, taking control, forcing himself into the position of power. He'd thought that would make him feel strong again, but in reality it was just feeding into his feelings of helplessness. He needed to know that he could choose, that he could not have control and still be okay.

He needed to trust.

Jason didn't trust anyone, couldn't trust anyone. But 'Not' Jason… Not Jason could trust Not Dick, could give himself up to the healer's hands that had evoked so much in him before.

Dick held him, his hands moving over Jason's strong back, pulling back from his lips for air. "You sure?" he murmured, knowing that Jason would understand what he was asking. He looked into those lighter blue eyes for confirmation, heart clenching at the need he saw there.

"Yeah… I'm sure." He replied, pulling Dick back in, hands threading into his hair.

"Okay… I can do that for you." Dick murmured softly, letting Jason guide him to the bedroom.

He could be the one that Jason trusted.

/

**To be continued! Really, it will, I promise, but it might take awhile XD A couple people suggested I use Dick's experience in Nightwing #93 to help him connect with Jason, and you could take it that way, yes. But to be honest in my own mind I'm referring to a different incident for Dick, because the feeling would be different being forced by a woman then being forced by a man. I might go into details about my own version of Dick's experiences later on. In the meantime enjoy this fluff and expect sex later.**


	3. Chapter 3

Kissing wasn't something that Jason was used to. It was intimate, it was open, and it just wasn't something you did when you were just looking for a cheap fuck on a dirty bed.

With Dick it was different. The man was a born kisser, openly affectionate and not backing down from the intimacy of the act. Rather, instead, he faced it head on. His kisses were those of a lover, someone who knew how to give to their partner, who wasn't just taking for personal gratification. And even though Jason had only experienced the touch of one other man on his body the feelings couldn't be further apart.

Jason had never thought about being with another man, and he hadn't really cared about people who did. It was never something that interested him. With women there was never any doubt about who was in control, who had the power, with men the dynamic was different, or he thought it should be, so he'd never considered it of any merit before.

But with Dick it was different. It didn't matter that they were both men. Jason remembered his first nervous kiss with a girl he'd actually liked, so very long ago, a lifetime ago. Kissing Dick felt like that, a warmth in his stomach, a nervousness, a shiver across the skin that made goose bumps rise. It didn't feel like he was kissing another man, because sex didn't matter, in their world of two people such insignificant details meant nothing. All it meant was that Jason could let go.

Dick was focusing his attention completely on the younger man in front of him, the rest of the world and its troubles fading away. There was a moment when he pulled away and looked at Jason's face when he felt a twinge of guilt, a voice whispering _what would Batman say? _in the far reaches of his mind. He pushed that voice away, silencing it maliciously. Bruce would undoubtedly disapprove of this; he had never understood the basic human need for contact, for connection to another person.

Dick didn't care. This wasn't about sex. It wasn't about physical gratification it was about something much deeper, the soul-deep healing of scars that someone had left on a dear loved one of Dick's. Messed up and strange as their family was, Dick loved each and every member of the Bat family with unabashed devotion. So when he touched Jason, it wasn't out of lust, there was only the gentle exchange of touch, the passing of one scarred soul over another, their scars matching and mending at the touch of the other.

To the two of them, this was an act of deep emotional value, it had very little to do with the physical joining of bodies, it had everything to do with Jason putting all of his trust in Dick's hands. The older Robin did everything possible to take good care of him.

/

There was lust eventually, of course. It didn't start that way, but the heat of skin touching skin, the friction of that contact sparked the heat.

Jason found himself admiring Dick's scars, tracing them with slow fingers, wondering at each of them. There was a lifetime of hardship written on his body, scars overlapping scars and Jason was struck by how fragile they were. It never occurred to him to compare Dick's body to his previous experiences. This man was nothing like the soft skinned, sleek bodied women that Jason chose for himself, and somehow that didn't matter.

They were just people, after all. Without names or identifying features, just two people seeking comfort in each other, and that was all they needed to be. He was a little surprised at how easy it was to give in to that feeling, to just let go and let Dick take care of him. But it really was just that easy.

Dick laid him down gently, lips tracing gently over naked skin, lean body pressed against Jason's broader one, each ridge and dip of their bodies fitting together. Dick mapped his body with slow touches, extending those intimate, soul-searching kisses beyond just his lips. His body drifted in the sensations, the slow build up. So slow, so patient, Dick didn't rush him into anything, slowly easing him into every step of the process, making him sigh and moan without any kind of urgency. It just felt _good._

The first orgasm almost took him by surprise, with how slow and sweet Dick was being. But with Dick's mouth wrapped around him and pulling unbelievably intense sensations from Jason's body he was thrown head first into the feeling and didn't think for a moment of resisting it.

Dick was amazing, this was amazing.

He wanted to do this forever.

/

In the aftermath of sex, laying in tangled sheets and pressed together intimately, as close as was possible with Dick still curled against his back and inside of him. Jason's breathing slowed and evened, welcoming the embrace of the older around him. This was part of it too, this holding, allowing himself to care and feel despite what logic said of what they had just done.

"Dick…" he murmured, voice husky and low.

"Hm?" Dick replied, his hands pausing from where they'd been softly stroking Jason's side.

"… Would you tell me what happened to you?"

Dick was silent for a few moments. He had expected this, knew it would be part of the healing. Jason wanted to understand, wanted to bring their healing full circle, know Dick's pain as Dick knew his. Still, it was difficult to bring up and Dick found himself pulling away, separating their sticky bodies and rolling on his side away from Jason.

"Are you sure you want to hear about it now? It's… not exactly pleasant pillow talk." He said, holding onto the plain white sheet with one hand, nervously tense for the first time in this entire night.

Jason rolled to look at Dick, taking in the tense silhouette of his shoulders in the dark. "If you can't I won't make you. But I…l want to know."

Dick sighed, reaching back and pulling one of Jason's arms around him, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Jason sensed the feeling and pressed close, his chest supporting Dick's back.

"It was when I was sixteen. Bruce had been sending me to that fancy prestigious high school and I was balancing my school life with my life at his side. That was when things started getting kind of tense between us, and so I spent less and less time at home if I could manage it.

"I was helping one of my favourite teachers clean up her classroom, so I was there late. I ended up talking to her for a while about a project I was working on so I didn't leave until around six. But when I went upstairs to get my stuff I saw something…

"One of the school's star athletes was there with a girl in a wheelchair, talking to her just in front of the stairwell. He was saying horrible things to her, telling her about how useless and ugly she was, how she should kill herself, telling her to roll herself down the stairs and hope that the impact broke her neck. I saw red. I was so furious, I went up there and I made him stop. I only just kept myself from beating the shit out of him. I got the girl away. She was crying a lot and I talked to her for a while. I managed to calm her down, get her feeling a bit better.

"The next day I went to the principal of the school and I told him what I'd seen. I told him I was reporting it to the school board too, I wasn't going to stop until that guy had been thoroughly punished for what he'd done. He was a star football player and he was looking towards a promising career as a professional athlete, but I ruined that for him. Because of my report, and the girl he'd abused backed up my story, he was taken off of the team and expelled. He lost every chance at a scholarship, at getting into a nice school again. I was glad. A guy like that didn't deserve anything good.

"A couple weeks after getting him expelled, I was attacked. I didn't see who it was before they knocked me out, I only caught that they were bigger than me, and they caught me completely by surprise. When I came to I was tied up in a dark classroom after school hours, with that guy standing in front of me. He said he was going to get me back for what I'd done to him, how I'd ruined his life. I figured he would try to beat me…"

He paused, holding on to Jason's arm, having difficultly continuing. Finally he took a deep breath.

"I figured I would wait, let him get a couple hits in before I slipped the ropes and kicked his ass royally. He did hit me, a couple times but… but then his teammates came in…"

He shuddered a little, an involuntary reaction that made Jason hold him tighter, the younger man's eyes wide as he listened to the older's story.

"Two held me down, making sure I didn't struggle while the rest of them took turns with me. I was so shocked I couldn't even think of getting away. I couldn't believe it was happening…. There were nine of them that raped me, one after the other… When they were finally done all I could do was lay there, it took me an hour before I managed to clean myself up and limp home… Bruce still doesn't know. I couldn't tell him."

There was silence while Jason processed what he'd been told, feeling sick to his stomach. It wasn't the same as what had happened to him, it wasn't the same at all. He felt horrible and sick and _angry. _He wanted to find every single one of the fuckers that had done this and tear them apart, make them suffer for everything they had done.

"I think the cheerleaders were there too…" Dick murmured, still caught up in the swirl of dark memories. "I heard them laughing while they watched."

"Fuck!" Jason sat up, pulling Dick up with him and nearly crushing him against his chest, breathing a little raggedly. "Tell me who they are… I'll… I'll…"

Dick smiled sadly, leaning against Jason and stroking his naked back soothingly. "It was a long time ago, Jay." He murmured, "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Like hell it doesn't matter!" Jason replied indignantly, pulling Dick back to glare at him. "Those assholes deserve a special place in hell, every single damn one of them! I'd do about anything to be the one to put them there!"

Dick continued to smile sadly at Jason's vehemence, touching his brother's face tenderly. "I'm afraid that's not really an option anymore." He said, sighing. "The whole team got in a bad accident on route to a game at another school. No one survived. It was a tragedy at our school, but I guess it was just karma at work…" Dick shook his head a bit. "The guy I got expelled got in trouble with unfortunate debts and got himself hit by sharks. I imagine they're all at their reserved spot in hell by now."

Jason growled a bit, not liking being denied the satisfaction of making them pay, but Dick ran a hand over his brow to sooth away the angry lines. "Jesus, Dick…" he murmured finally, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sorry…"

"Nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, it was a long time ago. The scars fade over time, when you have people to care for you…"

Jason looked at Dick quietly. "Does Kori know?" he wondered, looking at Dick's solemn face that was resting on his chest.

"Yeah… She helped me through a lot of it. Just like I'm helping you." He said, kissing Jason's shoulder gently and laying them both back down on the bed. "Get some sleep, alright? I'm tired."

Jason nodded a little, his arm going around Dick's waist. They both lay awake for what seemed like forever before sleep finally claimed them.

/

The dark presence in Jason's living room moved as a shadow does through the rooms of the house. It paused in the bedroom, looking down at the couple tangled in the sheets, a frown showing under the black of the cowl.

"Dick." Was the sharp command, an unvoiced order to wake up.

Said man opened his eyes and sat up quickly, shoulders tensed defensively, ready for a fight, ready for anything. He froze when he saw Bruce, in full Batman gear, standing next to the bed.

"Bruce." His voice was dull and stunned, completely unprepared to deal with this situation. He'd figured Bruce would find out, he always finds out, but he hadn't prepared a logical, Batman-proof explanation yet.

Jason shifted a the sound of their voices, eyes opening and body freezing next to Dick's as he took in the cloaked figure, mind screeching to a halt. This was not something he wanted Batman to see, the last thing he wanted to see right now, in his and Dick's world of two people, were the cold impersonal eyes of the Batman mask.

"T-the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, trying to keep to the anger and the violence that was easiest.

Bruce spared Jason a glance, seeming to glare for a moment before he looked back at Dick piercingly. "I'm here to speak to Dick." He said dismissively. "_Alone. _Put some pants on." He said gruffly, turning with a swish of the cape and leaving the room.

The two men on the bed looked completely stunned, trembling just a little, though neither would admit to that. There was still something completely intimidating about that tone, about the commanding voice of the man who had mentored them both.

Dick pulled away from Jason slowly, going and grabbing his pants and pulling them on. They glanced at each other for a moment, an unspoken support passing between them as Jason went to grab his pants as well, only wincing a little at the pain in his lower back.

Dick walked out to the living room, clearing his throat at Batman's back and tensing when he turned to him.

"I'm not here to talk about what just happened with you and Jason." He said briskly, "We'll deal with that _later."_ The tone of his voice promised that Dick would not like how it was dealt with and the younger man swallowed thickly. "I'm here, because someone left _this _on the doorstep of the Manor."

He pulled out a disk, showing Dick the blank sides of it and examining the man's face. Dick just frowned, looking at the disk warily, wondering what was on it that had provoked such a visit.

"It's footage from a video camera taken several years ago. It belonged to a girl you went to school with…" Dick's face went pale as he predicted where this was going, shaking his head slowly. "Was there something you didn't tell me about back then?" Bruce asked in a rough tone. "About the football team, and the boy you got expelled?"

They had videotaped it... Dick couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. He could only stand there with wide horrified eyes. He'd known that the cheerleaders were there, he had heard their voices, but he'd never seen the camera, he hadn't known that they'd kept a memento of the occasion. It added a whole new layer of humiliation to what had happened to him. Had they kept the disk to blackmail him with later? Did they watch it and laugh to themselves at what they had done to him?

Bruce was watching him, and the expression behind his mask was sad. "Dick, why didn't you tell me?"

Dick shook his head. He couldn't answer, when he took in a breath it shuddered and caught, nearly sobbed. Jason stepped out from where he'd been listening and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. Dick shuddered, turning to Jason, away from Bruce, causing an unreadable expression to cross the eldest man's face.

He tossed the disk on the coffee table. "I wanted to give it to you to destroy. I figured it was best you knew… I don't know who left it there… But I'll find out." He said.

As he passed by he touched Dick's shoulder, brushing a hand over his hair. A gesture of affection that was so rare it made another shiver go through Dick's body. Bruce couldn't comfort him, not really. He didn't know how. He'd work the case, he'd find out who did it. The case was easier to deal with than feelings were.

There was a swish of the cape and he was gone, out of the apartment, out of their space and both of the boys felt like they could breathe just a little easier. Dick looked at Jason with wide eyes that were incredibly vulnerable. Jason frowned at his expression and pulled him in, letting the older bury his face against his neck.

They didn't need words, simply walking back to the bedroom and curling up together, with Jason holding Dick this time. They didn't say a word, no words could possibly be found to express the pain of the moment. So Jason held him, and Dick let himself be held and they just lay awake that way.

Sometimes Jason wished that Bruce would just leave them all alone. Now more than ever, he wished that for Dick.

/

**I was surprised by a couple of reviews over at that were _surprised_ by the slash. I thought that I hinted at the slash pretty strongly but I guess I didn't. Haha, oops. Sorry, non-slashers, but that's how I roll. For those of you who do enjoy that sort of thing I hope you're enjoying it so far.**

**As for this chapter, this is my interpretation of the whole thing, try not to hate me too much for what I did to poor Dick but I do love the drama.**

**And Daddy Bat really needs to work on his interpersonal skills. He sucks at it.**


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce had seen the tape…

Of course Bruce had seen the tape.

You didn't leave a mysterious disk on the steps of Wayne Manor without expecting Bruce Wayne to try and find out what's on it. Somewhere in his mind Dick was glad that the target audience was Bruce and not Batman, that their identities were still secret in that regard anyway.

Still, the thought of the man who is basically his father watching him get brutally raped by football players made Dick sick to his stomach.

He was borrowing Jason's shower, letting the scalding heat of the water wash over his back, shivering as if cold despite the burning heat he'd set it to. The chill was inside him, he knew.

People talked about his warmth a lot. His bright and sunny personality, his warm smile. People were always impressed by his ability to act that way after all the tragedy in his life.

If he didn't smile, he thought that he might just fall apart under the pressure of it all…

He couldn't stand feeling cold. It was a terrible lonely feeling and he hated it with a vehement passion. He had been a performer, in a family of performers, in a circus. There had never _not _been people around. Even within the stately Wayne Manor, though Bruce had been less than good company, Alfred had always been there with a smile and something sweet to make Dick feel better. If he ever needed anything one of them was there. He was never _alone._

Being alone was possibly his worst fear out of anything.

He'd been afraid he would be left alone after his parents' death, and the grief had swallowed him up in darkness and cold. Bruce had been the warm ray of light that had pierced through, gave him a purpose again, made him live. He loved him for it. A deep familial love that he wasn't sure Bruce even understood he felt for him. For all that Bruce would claim that he was no replacement for the family Dick had lost, and Dick would agree that nothing could replace his beloved mother and father, still Bruce had been something just as important, just as beloved and just as heartbreaking to lose.

He wondered sometimes if Jason was at all like him, or if they really were so different.

He hadn't known much about Jason at first, except the jealous bitterness that came with knowing that he was his replacement. It wasn't until after Jason had died that he'd put any real effort into learning about him, and what he'd learned had shocked him to the core.

The life that poor boy had lived… a violent and terrible life, a painful life. It hurt Dick's tender heart just thinking about it. Maybe he was soft, he'd been accused of it before, but Jason's experiences had hurt him and he'd wished that he could have connected with him while he was alive, make up for the time when he'd been too petty to get to know him.

This was his redemption, his second chance at getting to know the man that his 'little brother' had become. Maybe this was a strange way of going about expressing brotherly affection, but when had their family of misfits ever been normal?

Jason knocked on the door of the bathroom, "Oi, pretty boy, you drown in there or what?" he asked in a gruff tone.

Dick smiled a little. That was pure Jason. Back to insulting him after a night of amazing sex and a morning of unfortunate Batman contact. It was nice to know some things didn't change.

"I'm alive, Jay-bird, don't worry." He called back, lifting his head up to properly soak himself in the water. "Come join me if you want to." He added, just to see how Jason would react.

"Che, whatever." Was the terse reply and Dick chuckled. Jason was delightfully predictable sometimes.

He washed himself up and got out of the shower, heading back out into Jason's bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Jason was reclined on his bed, book in hand, reading quietly when he walked out. Dick blinked, looking surprised. He'd never pegged Jay as a reader. Sometimes he did surprise him…

/

Neither of them said anything when Dick stayed around for the rest of the day, lounging beside Jason on his bed and making lunch for them both when Jason said he was hungry. It was just grilled cheese sandwiches, since Jason didn't have much, but Jay had still been amused by the other man playing housewife in his kitchen. They didn't talk about Batman, or either of their rape experiences, it seemed like they just needed to be around each other. So they didn't talk about it, they just stayed as they were.

They didn't have sex again either. It wasn't a part of the dynamic, not how things were right then. What they'd shared had been an intense experience and they'd probably both need a few days to recover from the emotional implications alone, let alone the physical.

Still, there was touching. Dick's head resting on Jason's shoulder, reading the pages of his book together in silence, only speaking when a page needed to be turned. There was Jason's hand on Dick's lower back as he cooked them dinner later on, watching him with a small smile on his face that was so close to being happy that it made Dick's heart ache. There was the touch of their thighs when they sat together on the couch eating, talking about something inane and meaningless that neither of them remembered later.

To Jason, it was so strange, to have Dick here and to not want him to leave. He kept telling himself to get up and get the older man away, to go back to his solitude, to get away. But he just couldn't. Dick felt so natural here, with him, next to him, he couldn't bring himself to force him away. Not yet anyway.

Maybe this was part of what they'd shared. The pain out in the open and leaving nothing behind but this connection. Jason wasn't sure how these things worked. The last person he'd felt really connected to had been Bruce, and that connection was well and thoroughly severed now, or at least he told himself it was. Seeing Bruce that morning… No not Bruce. _Batman. _Who was almost better than Bruce because Jason didn't have any child like urge to curl against his chest and ask him to make all the pain go away. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and looking over at Dick, who was looking tired again, dozing off in front of Jason's TV with his empty plate on his lap.

Jay grabbed the plate, making Dick jump and look up at him.

"I'll clean up." Jason said with a shrug, collecting their dishes and heading for the kitchen. "You cooked." He offered by way of explanation.

Dick nodded slowly, watching him go and glancing down at his lap. It was quite the revelation, to realize that the two of them had just spent the entire day together without a single fight or angry word, just basking in each other's company like it was the most natural thing in the world… Maybe it was.

"Hey, are you staying the night again?" Jason called from the kitchen, a note of hesitation in his voice, like he was scared to ask. "It's cool if you are. I just want to know."

Dick looked blank for a moment, blinking slowly before a smile perked up at the corners of his lips.

"You got some pants I can borrow?"

/

Bruce glanced at the monitor, his cowl back and off of his face as he watched his two former Robins settle in for the night. Dick was wearing a pair of Jason's shorts, and they were curling together on the bed. He wasn't entirely sure what to think of it, if he was honest. True, they weren't really related, and one of them was legally dead, and he didn't have anything against homosexuality either it was just… It seemed like something he should be angry about.

But when had he ever seen Jason's face so composed and peaceful, especially since he'd died? And Dick had been so shaken by the disk, and Bruce hadn't known what to do. Dick's words came back to him.

_"You… you don't understand, okay? You're always in control, you don't know what it's like to suddenly feel… helpless."_

After seeing the tape Bruce could understand how Dick might have felt helpless. Pinned and struggling, completely unable to get away, crying out in pain and humiliation. The image of Dick's face, contorted in sick agony was burned into his mind. God, he'd been so young too. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right.

Bruce rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head slowly and feeling ill. How had he not stopped it? He was supposed to stop it. He'd failed Dick, and he hadn't even known that he had. It was like Jason all over again, only instead of being late by a few seconds he was late by several years…

He looked up at the screen again. The boys were sleeping. _His _boys. His poor, lonely, abused sons. How could he possibly ever look either of them in the eye now? After failing them not only as Batman, but as their guardian, as their father.

It replayed in his mind again and again, holding his thoughts hostage. And for once he didn't steel himself, didn't exert the control. Those images were his punishment, after all. He'd see them because he had to condone somehow. Dick would undoubtedly paste a smile on again as he always did, and Jason would run and disappear as he was known to do, but Bruce would know that things had changed, he would know the pain behind their faces. It would haunt him forever.

He turned off the camera, turning away and starting to pull off the armor of the Batman uniform. Suddenly it was just too heavy for him to wear…

/

Dick knew he'd have to leave today. He couldn't afford to ignore his life for another day. But Jason was warm against the front of him, breath on his neck, legs tangled together in the sheets. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to think of anything but the warmth next to him. He shivered a little and shifted closer, burying his face in Jason's short hair and breathing out a shuddering breath.

Jason was awake, arm draped loosely over Dick's waist. He felt the other man's pain like an ache in his chest, looking down at that mussed, dark hair and pulling him in closer. Dick made a small noise, akin to a wounded animal, and Jason held him tighter.

"I'm sorry…" Dick murmured, shaking his head a little against Jason's neck.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked, frowning.

"I don't know… I'm just sorry."

Jason sighed a bit. "Me too." He murmured, pressing a kiss to Dick's shoulder, like Dick had done to him when he'd been hurt. Dick's wounds weren't as physical, sure, but he thought, hoped, that the gesture might work the same either way. Dick seemed to appreciate it, holding on to Jason's back and breathing shakily.

"Do you want me to get rid of it for you?" Jason murmured, glancing at his door, where the disk would be waiting, still on his ratty coffee table.

Dick stiffened a little, seeming to think about the offer for a few tense minutes before he nodded carefully. "After I'm gone. Yes." He murmured finally. "I don't want to see it…"

Jason nodded, feeling a twinge of anger as he remembered Dick's stricken face. Why had Bruce even brought it here after watching it? Why would he put Dick through that? And was it really just a coincidence that this disk magically pops up after all these years to traumatize his sensitive brother?

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. But he knew that he was with Bruce on one thing, he was going to find out who sent it, preferably before the big man did, and do something entirely nasty to them.

He was imagining a faceless person's demise with great pleasure when Dick pulled away from him. He looked at the older man as he went to retrieve his crumpled clothes, dressing quietly and setting Jason's shorts at the foot of the bed. Jason sat up on the bed and watched him, feeling his chest tighten a bit.

"You goin'?" he said, like he couldn't tell.

Dick nodded, finishing pulling his shirt on and walking over to Jason, the press of his lips was tender and soft, seeking comfort as much as it lent it. "You know where to find me, Jay." He murmured, looking into his eyes with an earnest expression. "If you need me, I'll be waiting."

Jason knew what he meant and, whether he needed him or not, he'd be on Dick's doorstep in a few short nights without fail.

Because Dick needed _him_.

He wouldn't say it even if he had the words, so he just kissed him again and pushed him away. "Get your pretty ass out of here before I kick it." He growled, his eyes revealing the smile his lips didn't show.

Dick's smile was stunning as usual and Jason stopped breathing.

"See you, Jay." He murmured as he left. The click of the door was almost silent behind him.

Jason heard him go, sitting there for a while and staring at his knees petulantly. The last couple of days had left him a little lost, and he shook his head slowly. Dick flitted around the edge of his mind, his smile, his laugh, those eyes. He realized, somewhere in his mind, that this had been what Dick wanted. To turn his mind away from what had happened to him, give him something else, something pleasant, to replace those thoughts with. He'd be angry about it if it didn't work so damn well…

/

When he went out to the living room and looked at the coffee table he scowled darkly at the disk laying on its surface. He should do as Dick asked and destroy it, he knew he should. But there was a sick curiousity growing in him, a demented desire to watch, to see and to, ultimately, _understand._

That had been what their whole interaction had been about, hadn't it? Understanding one another. He'd been trying to get in Dick's head from the start, be like him, be Robin. Even after having long since lost any desire to walk at Batman's side there was still the lingering remnants of what he'd learned. From Bruce, and also from Dick. After all, as the second Jason had always wanted to live up to the name of the first. He wanted to surpass him too, but that had been a childish want, a part of him that had already been hardened by the life he'd been forced to live.

His thoughts were nostalgic as he took the disk over to his laptop and slid it in. He'd watched footage of Dick, had watched his movements for hours upon hours, trying to replicate him. Even when he'd seen him as Nightwing he'd been enthralled simply by the way that he _moved. _Maybe it was that old desire to see him that made him want this, he wasn't sure, but right now he knew that he had to watch it, had to see, had to get inside Dick's head and know his pain.

As the video started up he felt his stomach clench sickly. He couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to even as Dick's face came into view, obviously dazed from being knocked out.

His face, god his _face. _His eyes focused on that and only that. The initial dazed expression, followed by the snap of Bat awareness, of sensing danger, then there was the narrow eyes, challenging, planning. But then the others came in and those eyes reflected the confusion, then the dull shock of disbelief, and finally pain.

He thought he could handle it, thought that he'd seen enough pain and horror out on the streets that this wouldn't phase him. Instead it hit him like a punch in the gut, seeing Dick's tormented face. He wanted to reach through the screen and make it all stop, to fight them away and pull Dick to his chest and just make it all go away.

It scared him, the strength of that desire.

But probably the most frightening thing was that these thoughts were not accompanied by rage, like he was used to. No, all he could feel was sadness, was hurt. He wanted to cry. He wouldn't cry, he fought the tears but then he glanced at the screen again, and there were Dick's amazing blue eyes, tears streaming down his face and Jason had to turn it off. He felt numb and terrible, the tears he'd been fighting trickling a few drops down his sculpted face.

He regretted this entire thing, he didn't know why he'd felt like he had to do this.

He destroyed the disk with a vengeance Batman would have been proud of, leaving nothing behind to put back together again, nothing left to hurt Dick with. He had the sudden, powerful urge to go find Dick, wherever he was at this point, and pull him into a crushing hug. He resisted though, knowing that Dick would question it, would want to know why, and Jason didn't feel like fessing up to watching.

Instead he poured that energy into cleaning his equipment, making sure everything was clean of blood, lubricated and prepared for use. It was an absorbing task, one that soothed his psyche and helped him tuck the emotions away. He didn't need or want them right then. After a few hours of that he felt more like himself again, and was determined to go back to how things had been before, forget that all of this had happened.

The thought of Dick was like a stab in the chest and it stopped him short.

He couldn't forget everything, no. Not when Dick still needed him…

He looked out at the street and wondered what his brother was up to now, if he was thinking about things, or if he was hiding everything away behind that pretty smile… Probably a bit of both. Dick would flash that smile to the world and then the moment people looked away his thoughts would turn inward. He'd always been better with this sort of thing than Jason.

He let himself think about Dick for a few more moments. Let himself imagine the smile, the eyes, before he pushed him away and turned from the window.

Tonight, he was in the mood to beat up some bad guys.

Feelings would wait 'til later.

/


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were an exercise in frustration for Jason Todd.

He was used to anger, he was used to it simmering under the surface of his skin like venom, the sensation had become nearly masochistically pleasurable. But Dick had managed to get far enough under his skin to leech the poison out and now he was left with dull frustration that didn't fulfill the pain he'd grown used to.

His frustration was amplified at that moment and was apparently due to the sudden appearance of an angel on his shoulder, an angel that looked and sounded suspiciously like Dick.

The angel whispered to him in seductive tones.

_Use the tranquilizers tonight. _It said.

_Rubber bullets will be just as effective for what you're going for. _It said.

_He doesn't need to die. They don't need to die. _It said.

He couldn't seem to will it away. The damn voice dogged him everywhere he went. And with that damn invisible angel's eyes watching his every move he couldn't bring himself to kill, couldn't summon the rage that made him ruthless.

So, the score was currently sitting at a few drug dealers and their bosses taken care of, trussed up for the cops, with barely any blood spilt.

It was painfully nostalgic, this accomplished feeling he got as he saw the police cart off the villains. It brought him back to days of careless laughter and running at Batman's side. Those days when he'd done backflips because, hell, back flips were fun. And because Dick had been the one to show him how. And even back then, Dick had been… the core, the heart, the center. Everything.

His chest hurt as he headed in through the window of his latest shithole apartment. He hadn't gone to see Dick again… He felt like he should. He glanced at the clock. 3:30. Still early for their lot… But, no. Not yet. He wasn't ready to see the face behind the voice that had been whispering morality to him, sucking the poison out of his soul.

He would have called it an early night, would have crawled into bed and had another all-too vivid dream of Dick's body pressed against his, but then his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned at the unknown number. He'd gotten this disposable cell so that his contacts could reach him, so that the information network he'd established could get to him as easily as possible, but he hadn't expected anything this quickly…

He decided answering was better than hoping they would leave a message.

He pressed the button and held it to his ear, silent and waiting.

"Hello? Jason?" The voice on the other end was young, but serious, totally new to him. But he could certainly guess who it belonged to.

"This is Rob-… Tim Drake." The voice continued and Jason smirked a little. He'd guessed right.

"Ah, if it isn't the Baby Bird. How did you get this number?" he demanded coolly.

"That doesn't matter." Tim said quickly, tone Bat-serious and edged with concern. "I need you to go to Dick's apartment."

Jason blinked. He hadn't known what to expect from this, but that definitely hadn't been it.

"What?"

There was a sigh on the other end. "Look, no one has been able to get any contact with Nightwing for the past few days, not even Oracle. We're worried. But every time someone goes to his place he's nowhere to be found. I think we can both agree that he won't be found unless he wants to be… Bruce seems to think that he'll want to be found by you."

Jason had to scowl at that. Since when was Bruce _encouraging _that?

"I doubt he'll see me, but I'll see what I can do." He said gruffly. He scowled as he reminded himself to get a new phone, a.s.a.p.

He hung up without another word and turned back to the window. He only hesitated a moment before he headed back out into the dark. He didn't like helping out his replacement, in fact the sound of the kid's voice alone was setting that simmering feeling under his skin to boil once again. But Dick was the focus here, and Dick would be upset if he hurt Tim. Dick liked Tim, for whatever ungodly reason. Jason suspected that it had something to do with Dick's whole 'big happy batfamily' ideal that he tried to keep alive. He _wanted _to play big brother, he enjoyed it. He entirely overcompensated for Batman's lack of contact, emotional or physical.

By the time he arrived at Dick's apartment in Bludhaven he was already thinking that this wouldn't be a fruitful search. All of the lights were out in the windows and when he peeked inside the bedroom one, he didn't see the silhouette of a figure on the bed. When Dick was awake he liked the light, he turned every one on in the apartment and wandered from room to room in that endlessly energetic way of his, like he couldn't possibly hold still.

Jason decided to step inside anyway.

It took him awhile to get past the security on the window, Bats always had tougher places to get into then damn bank vaults, but he managed it after a while, sliding into Dick's bedroom. His boots were silent on the plush carpet. He was still in full Red Hood gear, which he figured probably wasn't the best way to come in, but he'd wanted to get here fast and he hadn't really thought before he'd headed out. He pulled his helmet off and shook off the helmet hair, looking around the room for a few moments before stepping out into the hall.

He looked one way then the other, surprised when he saw a light down the hall, too dim for him to have seen out the windows. He followed the faint glow towards what appeared to be a bathroom with the door cracked open and the light shining out. He could hear the sound of the shower spray from outside the door and couldn't help a small smirk. He'd get to tease Dick forever if he actually managed to sneak up on him in the shower. So he quickly unlaced his boots and slipped out of them, inching the door open and stepping in silently.

The sight that greeted him was not what he'd been expecting.

Instead of an innocently showering Nightwing, possibly in the middle of his nightly routine after patrol, he got a very disheveled, very drunk Dick Grayson, fully clothed in the bottom of the tub with an arm hanging off the side still holding a mostly empty bottle of vodka.

"Dick?" Jason said, looking a little scandalized. Dick rarely drank, and when he did he never got _really _drunk. It clouded the judgment too much, it made you weak. It was something they all avoided. It was one of those damn unwritten Bat Laws that Dick was always so careful to follow.

Not tonight apparently.

Dick didn't even look at him, just staring blankly ahead of himself and taking another pull from his bottle, laying there as the water soaked through his clothes.

"Hey, Jay." He murmured in a hoarse voice, sliding back further into the tub.

"You look like hell." Jay murmured back, frowning and moving to the tub side. He was right, Dick looked like he hadn't slept in at least 24 hours, and like all of his meals in that time had been of the alcoholic variety.

It couldn't have just been the disk. There was no way something like that could bring Dick down this hard. He was way too strong for that. Jason didn't know what had happened since he left but he wasn't about to leave his brother this way.

"Hey, c'mon, pretty boy. You're going to lose all that boyish charm if you keep this up." He said, offering a hand to help Dick sit up so that maybe he could at least get him out of his soaked clothes. All he got was a grunt in response.

He sighed, taking the bottle away from Dick, and sliding it away from them both, glaring a little at the older man. "Alright, Dick, what the hell is going on?" he said. He was bad at this whole sympathetic thing.

Dick looked murderous when Jay took the bottle, growling and swinging an arm at him and even drunk off his ass he was still fast as hell and before Jason was really aware of what was happening he was being hauled into the tub, leather and all.

"Agh! Dammit, Dick! You're going to owe me a new jacket after this!" he said, looking down at the man currently under him in the water. "What the hell is wrong? Just tell me!"

Dick was staring at him, his eyes somewhere between angry and kicked-puppy sad. The expression hit Jason somewhere deep and he stared back at him. "Jesus, Dick. Tell me… Please."

Dick was still looking at him when he spoke, and something seemed to crack in his eyes. He buried his face in Jason's armoured neck and shuddered with something that was almost like a sob. He smelled strongly of vodka, but the scent was already fading in the wake of the water splashing over them. Jason wrapped his arms around him, feeling the shaking of his shoulders. Dick felt smaller than he should… It was mind boggling to think that time had grown him enough to be able to hold the older man this way.

"The pictures…" Dick murmured against him, prompting Jason to pet his hair slowly.

"Pictures?" Jason asked carefully. Dick seemed so fragile all of a sudden, clinging to him like a child, sopping wet with their clothes hanging heavy on their bodies.

"I think they've been sending them since the disk was left at the manor… There's a new one every morning…" he murmured, voice cracking and his hands clinging harder to Jason, nearly bruising even through the armor.

The disk? Jason's back stiffened. "Dick, what pictures?" he asked, voice rough. He had suspicions, even from just the few slurred words Dick had given him, and they all spelled out bad.

"I think they're from the video… or maybe someone had another camera there, I don't know…" Dick murmured. "I tried to figure out who sent them. I _tried. _But there was nothing. No return address, no fingerprints, not an ounce of trace. The paper, the envelopes, the pictures everything was all so generic, you could get it anywhere. There was _nothing _I could use. They just come in the general mail, every morning there's a new one…"

"Fuck…" Jason cursed, holding Dick tighter. This was more than harassment or blackmail, this was fucking psychological torture. Who the hell was doing this?

Dick was trembling harder, his voice bitter and a little hysterical. "New one every morning, a new picture of me bent over like a bitch while they hold me down…"

Jason squeezed him. "Don't talk like that." He murmured.

"Why not?" Dick asked him, laughing humorlessly and shaking his head. "I didn't want it then. I would have given anything to make it stop, to make it never happen. But what have I done in recent years but prove that I'm just a bitch?" he said, holding on to Jason tighter, there were definitely going to be bruises. "Sex is easier than thinking. And I've been used like that. Pinned down, taken. I wanted it that way, to take it like a whore. It makes me remember I'm alive, it's the easy way for me to forget." He pressed his nose to Jason's jawline, breathing hitching on a sob or a laugh, Jason wasn't sure. "I wanted to do it when I saw them. I wanted to lose myself in it and not remember what they did to me. But you weren't here… so I drank instead."

"Dick, stop talking like that." Jason growled. "You shouldn't talk about yourself this way."

Dick took a shuddering breath, "Why not? It's true." He said. His hands released their hold on Jason a little, legs sliding up, around Jason's waist. "You could do that for me, you know. Use me. Make me forget. Drown my sorrows… Just like those girls you pick up at bars."

Jason's breath hitched and he stared at Dick, wide eyed and stricken. He stopped stroking Dick's hair and pulled his legs off of him. "No." he said firmly.

Dick shivered and sounded desperate. "Please, Jay. It won't be difficult. I need it." He whispered, nuzzling Jason's neck urgently.

"No." Jason said again, voice hoarse. "No, Dick."

Dick's hands were on his face now, pulling back so that Jason could see the pain in his eyes. "Please! You can close your eyes and pretend it's someone else, you can make me be whoever you want just don't let me feel like this anymore!"

**"NO!" **

Jason nearly screamed it, shaking and pulling Dick tightly to his chest, face buried in Dick's wet shoulder. "No…" he whispered, "I could never use you. I can't… You deserve more."

Dick made a pained noise against Jason's neck. "No, I don't. I'm not worth anything…" he murmured in a tormented voice. "I'm trash that they chewed up and threw away."

"No, you're not!" Jason said insistently. "God, Dick, stop it. How can you think of yourself this way?" he said, voice hoarse and strained. "Don't you know that you're everything?

"Where would we be without you? Any of us. God, if Bruce had found me first, or even Tim… He'd be dead or have broken down by now. You were the one who made him open up, you were the one that brought him back from the edge. I couldn't have done it, no one else could have, just you. I would have died a lot sooner if you hadn't been there, offering guidance, offering to listen when Bruce never could, being the one who always understood. You're the warmth we're all missing, you're everything that keeps us all sane… Everything that keeps me sane…"

Dick was openly crying now, hot tears falling on Jason's neck to mix with the lukewarm shower droplets. Jason could hear every wretched sob tearing through him.

"You're the one who smiles, who makes everyone else smile when they really need to. You're the only thing that keeps this damn stupid family together when we're all too stubborn to admit that we even care. We'd be lost without you, dammit. Don't ever sell yourself short like that… You're no one's bitch. The rest of us should be falling at your feet, not the other way around…"

"Jay…" Dick murmured, choking on sobs. "Stop it."

"No." Jason said again, giving Dick one last gentle squeeze before he pulled back. He reached out and turned the shower off, looking down at Dick's swollen eyes and shivering body. "Let's get you out of those clothes and into something warm. You're going to sleep the alcohol out of your system."

Dick reached out and grabbed him, voice high and thready. "Don't go!"

Jason shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Help me out." He reached for Dick's shirt, pulling the clingy, sopping material off of him and tossing it to the opposite side of the tub before moving on to Dick's pants. Once he had him stripped he reached out of the tub and pulled down a towel, wrapping Dick with it tightly and rubbing him through it. Dick cooperated somewhat, though he seemed reluctant to move at all and clung closely to Jason whenever he tried to move away. Jason awkwardly slipped out of his armor and uniform, shaking his wet hair a bit and reaching for another towel. Once they both had one he lifted Dick out of the tub and into his arms, causing the older man to squeak in surprise and hold on to his shoulders.

"Let's get you into bed…" Jason said, walking quickly through the dark hallways and into Dick's bedroom. The comforter was thick and warm when he pulled them both under it, settling into the darkness of the night. "You should have called me." He murmured, kissing the crown of Dick's head in a gesture he hoped was comforting rather than awkward. "I would have come, I would have been here."

Dick shivered and pressed close to Jason's chest. So much skin on skin should have felt erotic but it wasn't. It was like they were kids again, back in those long forgotten days when the feel the touch of flesh was something warm and sweet, without the heat of adolescence and adulthood. The vodka smell was gone from Dick's body, his hair smelling sweet and damp, like he'd been standing in the rain.

And Jason loved him.

He hurt when he hurt. He wanted to smile when he smiled. He hated him in so many ways and wanted to hit him most of the time. But he would die for him, in a heartbeat, in a millisecond, no second thoughts needed. That was love, wasn't it? Or maybe just something close to it… Jason didn't know what love felt like anymore. Giving or receiving. But he suspected that the warmth that Dick had shown him, the sweetness of it sinking into his skin like heat from the sun, he didn't see how that could be anything else…

He smiled, just a little, against Dick's hair. "Make me an offer again when you're sober." He said in a quiet, amused tone. "I'd be up for staying in bed all day."

Dick made a sound that was almost a laugh and Jason could feel his small smile against his chest. Ah, and there was the warmth, back again, and Jay could relax now and the two of them could sleep.

They were two people, no pasts, no names, just two people, laying in a bed and being loved.

Jason didn't realize how long it had been since what happened to him. That wound was already healing, a small miracle thanks to Dick's attention, his devotion.

Dick slept peacefully for the first time in days, surrounded by Jason's rugged, masculine scent. He didn't think about what happened to him either. Things were alright. They would get through this. What could go wrong?

They were together.

-

**I'll confess, I struggled with this a little. I feel too badly for Dick and I feel like I made Jason too soft and fluffy... *sigh* I'll make him smash up somebody's face up later or something, to make up for it. Sorry it took so long to update, I know everyone's been waiting on it, but here it is! And it's even a longer chapter than the others so hopefully that makes up for the wait :D**


	6. Chapter 6 1 of 2

**So I'm having some issues with this chapter. I know where I want it to go but getting it there is giving me writers block XP so in the meantime, until I can pound out the final half of it, here's the first half. Hope it sates your desire for an update until I can fully satisfy. (and if anyone wants to talk about DC stuff/ be my sounding board for ideas for this fic just message me. I need DC friends...)**

Dick didn't sleep for as long as Jason thought he should, but he didn't say a word as the older man shifted out of bed and onto his feet. All the clumsiness that the liquor had brought, what little there had been, was gone. Not even what was undoubtedly a horrific hangover could put a hitch in that fluid stride. Jason sat up a little and watched, frowning a little at Dick's back.

Dick was, as he would put it, 'chatty'. He filled empty spaces with talk to keep his own edges smooth. But this silence seemed to go on forever, not a word spoken, like the air was glass and words would shatter it. Maybe it was, because Jason couldn't bring himself to say anything either. The words he'd said the night before already hung heavily around him, embarrassingly close to what he wished he could say.

He found himself staring at Dick's back, simultaneously scared and craving for him to turn around, to see his face.

When he did turn, Jason felt his heart in his throat.

Dick's beautiful eyes were hard and sharp, his features drawn. There was a shadow across his face, like a cowl covering his unforgiving features. He was standing there, naked and recovering from his own vulnerability, but for all that Jason was looking he couldn't see that vulnerability now. Standing there before him was a figure that imposed and intimidated through presence alone and Jason felt like a child faced with a shadow. For the first time since Jason had known him, Jason saw the _vengeance_ in Dick; he saw the darkness that had brought together a boy and a bat, all those years ago. For all that everyone saw the differences between Dick and Bruce, and there were a multitude of them, Jason found himself suddenly, startlingly, faced with their similarities. Suddenly, he knew, felt his heart clench around the fact, that Dick, for all his optimism, had the potential to be just like Batman, one day.

God, he hoped that day never came.

"Dick?" Jason said, voice cracked and hesitant.

Dick looked at him and for a long moment Jason could breath, couldn't move. But it ended quickly as the older man's expression finally softened, he leaned over the bed and kissed Jason lightly, lips soft as whispers. "Thanks, Jay." He said, smiling with all the warmth that Jason was used to. "Don't know what I'd do without you." He said, pulling away and heading for the shower.

Jason felt choked, not quite understanding what that had been, and yet understanding completely. He knew what it was to harden yourself, to put deadly resolve in the forefront of your mind when you felt cracked and weak. He'd never seen Dick do it that way before, but he could guess the thoughts going through his mind. Thoughts like 'won't let them have me', like 'I'm stronger than this', like _'they will pay'… _

Vengeance was a Bat family tradition, after all.

/

Dick made him breakfast, they sat there at his small table together and ate in silence, Dick sitting close to him and reading the paper while Jason nibbled hesitantly on an only mildly burnt pancake. Dick was still a little cuddly, which was normal for him, but Jason understood that he actually needed it now and he didn't protest. The silence was getting to him though, too much quiet, too much not saying what needed to be said. Jason was about to take matters into his own hands on that front, lips parting and mind searching for words when the phone rang and Dick got to his feet. Jason sighed a bit, a little glad he hadn't had to actually think of anything. For now anyway.

"Bruce…" Dick said once he answered the phone, voice low and Jason stiffened. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls before… I'm fine. Yes, I'm sure I'm fine… What do you mean is Jason here? That's none of your business."

Jason winced a little at that. He couldn't help but wonder how Dick was going to react to knowing that Bruce and Tim had been the ones to send him over, not Jason's own good intentions…

"Did you think that maybe I just didn't want to talk to you or Tim?" Dick said, more harshly than Jason had ever heard him speak, especially to Bruce. "I'm not having some crisis that you can fix, alright? Stop interfering in my life. I haven't needed you in it for a long time." That tone was _cold. _Dick was never cold. Dick was the very essence of warmth. Jason was the one having a crisis now, a Dick crisis. He couldn't believe the words he was hearing, the way the older man was cutting Bruce off like it was nothing.

"No, you listen, alright? I don't need you; I don't need your _stunted_ attempts at being a father to me. It's all too little too late and I'm sick of watching you struggle to care. You don't know how to be a real person anymore, Bruce. I'm human and I'm weak and I have feelings and that makes me an imperfect soldier. I know that's all you really wanted out of me anyway. So just… just shut up, alright. _Stop trying. _I can't play this game with you anymore."

He hung up. Just like that, not even giving Bruce the chance to reply, and that hard look was coming over his face again and Jason was suddenly on his feet and crossing the room. "Dick." He said, standing in front of him, so close to touching but not sure if he was allowed to.

Dick looked at him, blinking for a few moments before the look passed and he pulled Jason into a hug. "Sorry you had to hear that. I know how he upsets you." He said, smiling against Jay's neck. "I don't have to work, so let's go do something, yeah? Something pointless and fun."

"Uh… If you want, sure." Jason answered, feeling strangely. He realized that the lead weight in his gut wasn't actually because of who Dick had been talking to, it had been what he said. That was a revelation all its own but he didn't mention that. "Where do you want to go?"

Dick pulled back to smile at him straight on, and as dazzling and familiar as that smile was, his eyes didn't share the expression. "Oh, I don't know. I think there are a couple okay movies out. We could try that… If you don't have anywhere you need to be?"

Jason shook his head. No, he knew where he was needed. "A movie sounds great." He said, offering a hesitant smile. It was weak, but he tried. For Dick he tried.

"Good. I'll go shower."

/

Bruce stared at the phone for a long time, the dial tone sounding, but he was deaf to it.

Tim was standing a short ways away, eyes wide in shock he could guess Bruce was feeling even though his face didn't show it. He'd heard the whole thing. He honestly couldn't believe it had happened.

"B-Bruce…" Tim started, shaking his head helplessly. "He didn't mean it. He knows you-you _care _he just… He's having a rough time right now…"

It was like comforting a statue. Bruce's expression never changed, his eyes never flickered from where they stared at the phone. It didn't even look like he was breathing. But he must be right? No one could hold their breath that long…

"Tim… You have school don't you?" he said finally, making the young Robin jump in surprise.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. But, I mean-"

"You should go before your parents worry."

Tim hesitated. They both knew that his parents probably wouldn't notice his absence, and he wanted to help. But he knew a dismissal when he heard it, so he turned to leave.

"You… You take care, Bruce." He said, rubbing the back if his neck as he left.

Bruce finally pressed the end button on the phone and set it aside, feeling stunned. What Dick had said… Tim said he didn't mean it but what if he did? Did Dick really think that Bruce didn't love him? That he just thought of him as a soldier and not a son? Had Bruce really been so cold to him that it would make him think that?

The self-loathing was a sharp, familiar bite that he'd been getting a lot of lately. He thought back to all the times he'd been callous when he could have been kinder, the times he'd thought to 'toughen' Dick up, harden him against the world. Would it have been better if he'd acted the father then instead? He hadn't known how, but maybe for Dick he should have tried a little harder. God, he'd made so many mistakes.

And now he was on the verge of losing his eldest son. If he hadn't already…

/

Jason felt awkward. He was used to playing parts when he went out in public, used to reciting in his head what his character was supposed to be. But with Dick there was no point, no need to act. Jason was sure that for normal people that would be a good thing. It would be freeing.

For him though, for him it was scary as hell.

How do you act when your sort of, not really brother/lover takes you to the movies? Especially when said sort of, not really brother/lover is in the middle of a seriously distressing time and kind of just told their adopted father to shove it.

No, now that he thought about it, there was no normal way to act in this situation. None.

He was so fucked.

"Calm down, spaz." Dick told him cheerfully, licking an ice cream cone they'd gotten while they waited for their show time. "You look like you're about to run away any second. Let me tell you that would make this date really disappointing."

Date? Jason swallowed thickly and bit into his chilli dog so he wouldn't have to say anything. Now he was really fucked.

A date with Dick? Hell, now he really didn't know what to do…

/

He didn't have much choice but to let Dick have control, let him guide their actions. The older man seemed cheerful enough as they got popcorn and sweets and sat down to watch what was undoubtedly just another cheesy action movie. They shared popcorn. Dick held his hand. Jason felt like the world was turned on its head.

Dick kissed his cheek in the dark, and when Jason felt the small curve of his lips he forced himself to relax. Dick needed this. He could handle it. They were just at the damn movies, it wasn't like he was diffusing a time bomb or something.

It kind of felt the same, but that wasn't the point.

He couldn't remember a single thing that had happened in that movie, but it was a relief to hear Dick chattering about it as they walked out that he really didn't care. They walked through the streets as the evening started to dim, giving everything that ethereal twilight quality.

Dick looked good in any light. Literally any. But right now, with a small, mysterious smile on his lips and the silver light shining around him he could have been the hero of any fantasy novel ever written. So beautiful it wasn't real. So strong and so graceful, like no one else could ever be.

Jason knew. He'd tried to be all of that once. No one could do it but Dick.

"Dick…" he murmured, looking at him, winter-green eyes pensive. "What was that this morning?"

...

To be continued.


	7. Chapter 6 2 of 2

**Second half of chapter six!**

**I'm so sorry for how long this took to get out. I've been in Europe for the last few months and its been impossible for me to work on it. But I'm back now and you can expect more updates now. Enjoy!**

"Dick…" he murmured, looking at him, winter-green eyes pensive. "What was that this morning?"

Dick froze, chatter ending mid word. He didn't look at Jason, lips pressing tightly together in a hard line.

"What was what?" He asked finally, tone aiming for casual and failing miserably.

"You know what I'm talking about… That thing with Bruce."

The name apparently put Dick on edge, his teeth gritted and his eyes flashing dangerously when he looked at Jason. "I would think you of all people would understand being sick of Bruce's bullshit."

Jason wanted to squirm under Dick's glare, but he forced himself to keep looking him in the eye. "Yeah, yeah I do get that. What I don't get is why you did it that way. That's not your style, Dick."

Dick shrugged and looked away. "Maybe my style needs changing." He muttered.

Jason stared at him, searching for words. "I dunno… Your 'style' seemed to work just fine before…" He said awkwardly, nearly slapping himself in the forehead. He was just damn articulate wasn't he?

Dick sighed and shook his head. "Look, Jaybird…. Let's just go back to my apartment, okay? I want to relax a bit before I go on patrol tonight."

Jason looked surprised. "Are you sure you want to go on patrol? I mean, it isn't a great time…"

That glare turned back on him and he shut up fast.

"I've put it off too long. Crime doesn't rest just because I'm having a bad time."

That was such a _Batman _thing to say. It really was. And Jason was struggling with this attitude change, struggling to reconcile the man who'd tenderly guided him through his own trauma with… _this._ He didn't know this man. He wasn't sure he liked him. Still, he found himself at a loss for what to say as he followed Dick home. He was feeling lost in general, not knowing how to reach out the way Dick had reached out to him. He'd thought last night would be enough to pull Dick out of this. Normally he was so resilient, things just bounced off of him.

He hadn't known Dick had a breaking point.

He prayed silently that this wasn't it.

He seemed to be doing a lot of praying lately…

/

Once they were suited up and heading out Jason was starting to feel a little more normal. Dick had agreed to patrol together as long as Jason played nice and considering how Jason had ended up playing by Bat rules for the last few solo patrols anyway he figured he could handle it. Dick was keeping up his usual chatter, which was excruciatingly comforting for Jay.

He got a kiss before they escaped into the night. Dick tasted like mint and sadness, a certain saltiness to his lips like he'd been swallowing tears. But now wasn't the time to focus on it. He slipped the helmet on and they were off into the dark, on the tail of a drug dealer who was carefully killing his way through all the prostitutes in Bludhaven. Dick had been tracking him for a while and, even with his few days of wallowing in retrospective trauma, he nearly had him. If they pushed it, they could have this man off the streets tonight, and hopefully save a few women from his clutches.

Jason watched as Dick put on his game face, serious and sly, coaxing information out of drug-ravaged whores who would have never spoken to any authority if it weren't for Dick's considerable powers of persuasion. Jason hung back for the most part, watching Nightwing's back, gun at the ready and more than prepared to do what was necessary. His brother might have a great game face, but he wasn't at the top of his game just now.

Still, they had a new lead within hours, and any investigator would tell you that was nothing short of a miracle to pull off. Dick was sort of incredible that way, and Jason's intimidation factor was working in their favour as well, making the process go faster.

You didn't mess with Nightwing if you knew him. If you didn't know him… well, it might be tempting.

But you didn't fuck with Red Hood.

People sensed that sort of thing. So nobody gave in to temptation tonight. Nightwing's partner was packing serious heat and serious intent, together they managed to get everything they needed to nab this sick bastard.

Tonight, no one else was dying.

Well, hopefully, anyway…

/

It was nearly dawn when things went to hell.

Which was, let's face it, kind of a pattern in Jason's life. Things never got to go right for him. He was just karma's bitch, he supposed.

Still, had he given any thought to _how_ this night might go to hell, this wouldn't have been what he'd expected. Hell, this wouldn't even have made the top ten of things he might expect.

After all, how could anyone anticipate trying to talk Nightwing out of killing someone?

God, this was so wrong…

/

The darkness was nearly hiding Nightwing from his sight, but the blue gave him away, the bright stripe of an arm, elegant, half-striped fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun. One of Jason's guns no less, and he still didn't know when or how Dick had gotten it out of the holster, but the move was premeditated enough to make his blood run cold.

"Nightwing… Come on. This isn't how you do things… You were the one who was trying to get me to play by the rules, don't pull this shit now!" he yelled at him. Because when Jason was backed in a corner with no idea what to do, he got angry. It was easiest. It masked the smell of fear on him.

Nightwing's face was scarily impassive, staring at the bloodied, helpless man who was bound before him, eyes wide with panic, muttering himself hoarse in urgent ramblings behind the gag. He wasn't going anywhere, and he was staring down death in the form of the gun barrel currently pressed to his jaw.

Dick's voice was like ice when he spoke. "He deserves it. We both know it. If you were the one working this case you wouldn't bother chit-chatting about it, Hood, you'd just kill him. Why bother talking me out of it?"

Jason nearly whimpered, having that cold tone directed at him was like having every bit of warmth stolen from his blood. He swallowed thickly. "Yeah. Yeah, he deserves it. He's scum who doesn't deserve to live. But this isn't you, Nightwing. This isn't how you do things…"

Dick glanced at him. His lenses were down and his eyes were boring into Jason like he could cut through him just with his gaze. Jason was already feeling like he had, pain lancing through him like an oozing wound, bleeding through him. There was nothing of the man he'd been to the movies with earlier in those eyes. There was none of the man that had been such an integral part of who he was and who he had once wanted to be.

When Nightwing spoke again, Jason was too delirious with the soul-deep pain to understand.

"It's hard for you, isn't it?"

"What?" Jason's tone was confused, shaking his helmeted head slowly.

Nightwing waved his free hand casually, like they were in the midst of a light conversation. "Killing. It's hard for you. You don't want to take people's lives. I see that now. You don't do it because you enjoy it, or because it's easy. You do it because you honestly believe it's the right thing to do… You force yourself to kill them even though it's hard for you…" he smiled faintly and Jason nearly choked at the dead blackness of his eyes.

"Let me explain something to you, then, Hood. Something you never understood about Batman, or me…" He turned his gaze back on the man whimpering and begging in front of him. "The reason why we chose not to kill, why we couldn't make exceptions to the rule, why even though we wanted to we couldn't kill the ones that deserved it…"

He turned back to Jason, gun sliding up from the man's jaw to his temple. "The reason, Little Wing, is not because of any moral feelings about it.

"It's because it is really, really _easy _for us to kill."

And with that he pulled the trigger.

**Sorry about the ending, I know you all probably hate me for that cliffhanger, but it just worked too well for me to not leave it there.**

**About Dick's words about Jason, I figured this part out in a stroke of inspiration and it really makes sense to me. Jason truly believes in what he is doing and that's why he does it the way he does. I don't think he takes any real pleasure in killing people, but its a part of what he believes he needs to do. Any thoughts? Agree? Disagree?**


	8. Chapter 7

Jason was stunned, too horrified to react when he heard the gunshot. The world was slow and silent for a moment, like Jason had gone deaf, all sound and colour drained as his mind raced with the worst possibilities. Dick wouldn't do this. He _couldn't. _It had to be a lie. The words he'd said, it couldn't be true… although he'd pretty much hit the mark in regards to Jason.

But when the sound returned to Jason he realized that the silence had only been in his mind. There was screaming…

The bound murderer was holding up the mangled remains of his right hand, screaming in agony through the gag. At the last second Dick had turned the barrel; instead of killing the man he'd taken out the hand he'd used to kill those women. He would never gain use of that hand again. Jason was left gaping behind the helmet, disbelieving. He hadn't seen the movement; he hadn't noticed the change in direction.

He hadn't known that anyone who wasn't a meta could move that fast…

Dick called in the cops, turning to Jason so that they could leave before they showed up, his dark eyes turned back on the murderer with deadly chill. "Your hand was injured in the fight… Right?"

The weeping man nodded, eyes wide and hysterical. Jason doubted he would ever recover enough from this to ever hurt a woman like that again, even if his hand _was _salvagable. He should feel good about that. He should be glad that, even though he hadn't seen how he did it, Dick had not killed him. But he just felt sick.

Outside now, on the rooftop, Nightwing turned to him with his mask lenses down. "I want you to know…" he murmured, voice calm. "That I would have done it… If you hadn't asked me not to."

Jason gasped, staring at Dick with hands only trembling a little, or so he told himself. "Dick…"

"You're the reason that man's alive right now, Little Wing…"

The name hurt, it felt like Dick was reaching into his chest and squeezing his heart ruthlessly.

"Thank you, then…" he whispered in reply. He didn't know what he would have done if Dick had killed him, he didn't know what to do with what _had _happened. He'd never seen such cold rage from Dick before.

But he'd known, hadn't he? He'd known that he was capable of this. That inside all of them were shadows and vengeance. There were reasons why Bruce was the way that he was, after all, it wasn't all just because of his loss, it was protection as well. He protected the soft heart that lay beating in his chest with cool intelligence and planning, as did the new Babybird, Jason protected his heart with anger and violence. Dick… Dick had worked so hard to keep his heart exposed. He'd been stronger than the rest of them in that way, he'd fought to not withdraw. Certainly he was capable of hiding himself behind a smile, but with the people he trusted, the people he loved, there was never any question of how he felt for them.

And as these thoughts chased each other in Jason's mind he realized that Dick was really hurt, more than he'd realized, but that he had not truly changed. He'd just adopted a defence of his wounded soul.

That realization gave Jason hope, and he reached out to take Dick's hand, their gauntlet's creaking together.

"Let's go home…" he murmured, tone as gentle as he could make it, sounding a little broken.

Dick looked shocked, even behind the Nightwing mask. "Y-yeah, okay." He said, the cold veneer cracking away under the warmth of Jason's hand on his.

/

It was so unexpected, for both of them, to have Jason be the source of warmth this time, to have him stroke gently over Dick's cheeks as the mask came off, rubbing away remnants of glue there, touching their lips together in a tender, unhurried way that made Dick's breath choke in his throat and his bottom lip tremble under the attention. The coldness was melting away under Jason's heat, hands gently petting as he peeled away Nightwing to find vulnerable, _beautiful_ Dick underneath it.

Dick was shivering against him as he finally got him out of the uniform, standing there in boxers and looking up at Jay like he didn't know what to do and the world was falling apart. His lips parted to say something and Jason just shushed him gently with a finger to his lips. He couldn't say anything, not now, he didn't have words for this and he wouldn't know how to make them comforting even if he did.

So he pulled away Red Hood, tossing the remnants of that dark personality aside and pulled his brother in, fingers sinking into that thick, soft hair like his hand was meant to fit there. Even with the sweat and the scent of fear and Gotham still clinging to their bodies there was still warmth here between them, still a connection that Jason hoped would be able to bring Dick back from the shell he'd been slowly withdrawing into when Jason wasn't paying attention.

And really, he should have known, shouldn't he? Looking back on it, when had he last seen Dick smile? When had he ever seen Dick drunk and upset like that? These weren't reactions that his older brother was known for, this was what Jason did, what Bruce did, how they hid their pain behind cool exteriors and violent acts, burying it in booze and bitterness, letting the world think that they just didn't have the emotion to care. He should have seen the signs of it, he knew them intimately by now.

Dick would have noticed, if it had been him…

Dick was leaning on his shoulder, head cradled in the crook of his neck, fine tremors moving through the muscles of his back until Jason slipped a soothing hand over them, petting away the frailness that seemed to be clinging to Dick's skin. Finally, something seemed to break, much like that moment in the bathtub, and Jason felt hot, silent tears dripping down his neck.

"What's happening to me?" Dick whispered, voice thick with tears, confused and horrified by his own actions just before. Jason remembered the frightening figure from that morning, the dark shadow that had covered Dick's features...

"I don't know…" Jason murmured back, fingers back in Dick's hair, massaging in tiny circular motions that made a small, broken sob escape his brother's throat. "We'll get you through it."

"We'll get through it…"

/

Over the next few days Jason remained in Dick's apartment, waking up early to get things ready for his brother, getting the mail before he did and hoarding the mentally scarring pictures somewhere hidden so that Dick wouldn't see them.

He had no doubts that Dick was aware that they were still coming. But he didn't need to see them.

Jason was determined now to find who this was, but it was difficult to investigate when he didn't want to leave Dick's side, didn't want to let him fend for himself. Not now, not with all of this happening.

It was this line of thought that led Jason to the phone when Dick was in the shower, swallowing thickly as he dialed the number that he had long since memorized but had never actually called. There had been many times he'd dialed, staring at the phone with his thumb poised over the call button.

He'd ever pressed it until now.

The line rang twice before it picked up, a crisp voice coming on that was so familiar, it froze him up for a second, choking on words he'd had prepared.

"Wayne Residence. How can I help you?" silence for a moment. "Is someone there?"

"A-Alfred. It's me." Jason said, wincing at his stutter, hating himself for being so moved by the man's voice.

"Master Jason?" There was surprise in that cultured tone, underlying emotion that was so normally unheard in the butler's tone.

"Yeah. Um, is Bruce around?" He nearly choked on the name. It was still hard to say, it was still hard to believe he was even doing this.

"I will get him immediately. Is there something going on with Master Richard?" Alfred asked, voice back to its usual prim politeness. But Jason knew why he was asking, knew that Alfred loved all of them, maybe more than Bruce did.

Certainly more than Bruce had loved _him, _anyway.

But this call wasn't about him, it was about Dick. So when Alfred put him on hold to go get Bruce, Jason forced himself not to hang up and chicken out. As much as he dreaded hearing that deep, familiar baritone voice coming over the phone he had to tough it out.

Still, his breathing was a little rapid, a little panicked when Bruce picked up the phone.

"Hello? Dick?" So Alfred had said it was about Dick but not who it was. Smart man.

"You're one Robin off." Jason said roughly, forcing his breathing back to normal. "It's cool though, I'm used to being the middle child." That's it, hide behind the snark, give yourself a moment to think. That's what Dick had taught him .

"Jason." And suddenly that voice was Batman low, a deep growl that made Jason automatically straighten his slouched posture and roll his shoulders back in a military stance. He cursed himself silently for it, hated how well trained he was, even now. "What is this about?"

"It's Dick." Jason returned briskly. "He's halfway off the edge and I don't think he'll fly if he falls off." He felt the anger boiling, the hatred bubbling under his skin for the person that was doing this to his brother, his lover… "Whoever sent you that video? They've been sending him screenshots of the tape. Daily. Too generic to trace, no fingerprints, nothing."

Silence. Not uncomfortable, like Jason was expecting, just thoughtful.

"Any notes? Requests? Threats?"

Jason sighed, he wished it was that easy. "Nothing. Near as I can tell the goal isn't blackmail, it's just torture." He bite his lip a moment, wondering if the words on his tongue should be held back, but he couldn't keep it all to himself, it made him feel too helpless to try and fix this alone. "Bruce, he nearly killed someone on patrol the other night. I've never seen him… I mean…" he didn't know how to describe it. It was still too unbelievable.

Bruce was silent again for a few tense minutes that had Jason entirely on edge. Dick would be out of the shower soon and he didn't want to be caught like this, on the phone with Bruce, talking about the investigation, talking about _Dick._ He felt guilty and sick. It was a feeling he was getting a lot and he hated it.

Finally Bruce spoke. "Come to the Cave tonight. Don't bring Dick. Drug him if you have to."

Jason bristled at the commanding tone, but knew he would obey anyway. "I'll be there."

/

He hung up quickly, got into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich just in time for Dick to find him, still damp and naked from the shower. The older man looked tired, exhausted really. And even though he'd been a good boy on patrol lately that creepy chilled demeanor hadn't left him. As soon as Nightwing's mask went on, Dick Grayson hid away behind the ice and the intent. It scared Jason down to the core.

Thankfully there had been no other incidents like the one before, and Dick hadn't taken one of Jason's guns again, for any reason. Still, Jason didn't want him going out on patrol alone. Not in the state he was in. And he couldn't bring Dick to the Cave with him, even to spite Bruce's orders. Dick was in no state to deal with any of this.

So, that night, when he grabbed Dick his usual before patrol snack, which happened to be a bowl of disgustingly sugary and colourful cereal, Jason only felt a small twinge of guilt as he tipped the sedative. Twice the normal dose, and he had more if it didn't knock him out. Bats weren't affected by drugs the way normal people were, but he still didn't risk more unless it was necessary.

Thankfully, Dick went down fast, no extra dosage needed, and Jason breathed a sigh of regret and relief as he carried him to his bed.

"Bet you'll think more about how those stupid cereals you're addicted to cover up the taste of poisons, huh?" he muttered to Dick's prone form, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He didn't know why, he just needed the contact. "I'm gonna fix this up for you, Big Bird. I won't let 'em hurt you anymore…"

/

The Cave had gotten an upgrade since the last time he'd been inside, but the scene he walked in on was familiar. Bruce was at the computer desk, typing away while Robin stretched and went through the motions of a well-memorized training routine in the space behind him.

The nostalgia knocked the breath from him like a well-aimed hit to the solar plexus. Had it really been so long since he'd been that kid? Stretching and doing flips and kicks in well-timed routines, showing off a little in the hopes that he might catch Bruce looking at him, that he might see just a hint of approval.

How many times had he craved that look like a dying man craved water in the desert?

He shook the memories off, he couldn't think about that now. He had a job to do.

Bruce glanced up when he walked closer, even though he'd undoubtedly known he was there the whole time. Tim stopped his training when he saw Jason, helmet under one arm, but domino mask still covering his eyes. He couldn't be unmasked in front of them, he just couldn't. It was like it gave too much of himself to them. Tim's expression looking at him was almost reverent and it made Jason uncomfortable. Soon the expression was pulled back though, hidden behind an impassive, intellectual mask. Jason could deal with that and he was glad for it.

Bruce watched him warily when Tim came closer and it wasn't like Jason could blame him, his history of playing nice with the family was not exactly spotless. Still, they both knew this wasn't about him.

"So," he murmured gruffly. "I'm here. What've we got?"

/

Not much, it seemed. Tim had analyzed the content of the video, despite Bruce's protests, and he went over the pictures Jason brought as well, making observations here and there before returning to the computer and typing away. Jason was impressed, begrudgingly, by Tim's professionalism. He kept it cool, his eyes only tightening a little in anger when he let it sink in who the victim was that he was looking at in those pictures.

"The photos are definitely from the video, so that's good at least. There's no other recording of it, just copies of the original…" the current Robin murmured, lips pressed together thoughtfully. He rubbed the bridge of his nose a bit and straightened up, looking at Bruce and Jason with solid, determined features. "Once we find who did this, we should be able to get the original copy and destroy all the recordings permanently." He took a deep breath. "And I think I know how to find the person who did it…"

Both Jason and Bruce turned their bodies towards him in a snap, giving him their full attention.

"How?" Bruce demanded, Batman voice in full force.

Tim practically jumped to attention, fingers flying over the keyboard. "I was worried that the person who did this might be after Dick's reputation as your ward. So I checked online for any indicators that the video had been posted online. I couldn't find any trace of the whole video, but the still images…" he sighed and clicked a url, bringing up a plain black webpage with a large picture of Dick bent over in the center. Eyes glassy and mouth open in a horrible grimace.

The title of the webpage was 'Dick Grayson's Secret Shame' with a subheading saying 'Life-ruiner, Whore, and Homosexual'.

Tim swallowed thickly. "The images are stills from the video, like the ones that got sent to Dick's apartment, but they're cropped a bit, edited to make it look like … like it was consensual…" he looked down, like the image was painful. "There's more, too, stories claiming that Dick has ruined people's lives, gotten people killed, used money and power he got from being Bruce Wayne's ward to make sure that no one he disliked was ever heard from again… Claims that he has secret male lovers that he's keeping from the press, mostly young men, underaged. It's all false, of course, nothing has any sort of evidence to back it up, but whoever put together the site was good at covering their tracks. I've been at it a whole day and I still can't pin down where and who it was…" his expression was deeply ashamed, he'd wanted so badly to have gotten this person for Dick by now. "I've tried to shut the site down too, but they have backups and they just repost it on a different server."

Jason was definitely impressed and more than a little sympathetic now, putting a hand on Tim's shoulder because he knew that's what Dick would do if the situation was different. "That's a hell of a lot of work, Baby Bird. Anything else on there that could point to who it is?"

Tim was surprised at the touch but his eyes seemed to light up with something like joy at the attention, which confused Jason but he didn't comment. Tim clicked another link and blew out a slow breath. "Well, they post something new every day… I haven't found anything yet but there's still hope that-"He was cut off short, staring at the screen.

Jason, who'd been looking at Tim, followed his gaze and froze, wide eyed. There, in full-colour HD picture, was him and Dick, leaving the theatre together like they had a few days before. A big red circle was drawn around their joined hands, with the word 'PROOF' scribbled in jagged angry letters.

Below it was an angrily typed message, saying that those who hadn't believed before should now, that Grayson was sick and twisted and had obviously forced the young man in the picture into unspeakable acts. Jason stared, realizing how young he looked, still nervous and unsure as he'd been with Dick that day, his face without its usual stern mask, revealing the youth beneath it. He looked exactly like what this person had described Dick as corrupting.

Below that picture was another one, a closer look at their faces, with Dick's eyes tender on the younger man's face as Jason is looking away. Jason frowned, not understanding that look, but far more focused on the red writing on the picture that said this:

"TAKE AWAY HIS TOY, WATCH HIM FALL APART."

Below, a close up of Jason's face could be seen in clear view.

There was a bloody red 'X' drawn over his face…


	9. Preview: Morning After

**So, because I've made you wait so long for the next chapter I'm giving you a nice preview that I think you'll all like as an apology for the continued wait. This chapter is kicking my ass because I really wanna make it good for you, so please bear with me!**

**In the meantime, enjoy!**

When Dick woke up it was morning. He felt hazy, disoriented, like he was hungover, but he didn't remember drinking anything. In fact, he didn't remember much. He thought back, confused, ignoring the twinges of pain throbbing through his temples. He remembered getting ready for patrol, having his usual bowl of cereal and then… nothing. Blackness.

"Jay?" He called shakily, sitting up on the bed and holding on to his aching head.

"Hey, Goldie." Jason greeted as he came into the room, dressed in nothing but a pair of low riding grey jogging pants. He kept his voice low in deference to Dick's headache, sitting on the bed next to him.

Dick looked at him, blinking a few times and wincing. "Jay… What happened?" he wondered. "My head is killing me and I don't remember anything…"

Jason sighed. "I drugged you."

"…What?" Dick stared at him, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. "I'm sorry, you did _what?"_

Jason had pondered lying, telling Dick that he'd been hit on the head during patrol and that he needed to stay off the streets awhile to nurse the concussion, but it just didn't play out for him. He couldn't lie to that face, and Dick was not a child for him to coddle. He deserved the truth.

"Let me explain why I did it, then you can beat on me until you feel better about it, but I was backed into a corner, Goldie…"

He told him everything about it, how he'd called Bruce behind his back, how freaked out he was about how Dick had been acting, what they had found out about Dick's stalker and how they had threatened Jason. He said it all in a clinical monotone, a familiar tone that they all used when they were reporting facts on a case. Dick listened, pushing past the headache, and watched the emotions burn behind Jason's eyes as he went through it all.

"So, let me get this straight… Not only did you drug me, you also lied to me, talked to Bruce behind my back and tried to go after whoever is doing this while keeping me out of the loop?" Dick said in an equally clinical voice, making Jason wince and look away, the younger man's jaw tightening as he steeled himself.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it." He told him, bracing.

Dick looked at him, silence reigning for a few moments before he just reached out and buried his face in Jason's stubbly neck. He was always warm, Dick thought to himself, warm and rough. "I should kick your ass." He said, "But… the thought of you and Bruce and Tim all working together like that without fighting is… Heh, it's better than Christmas."

He broke out in a wide, watery smile, holding on to Jason tightly while the younger man just looked a little stunned. Dick squeezed him tight and continued. "I have these fantasies, you know? Of bringing you home with me and having it be okay. Not perfect, not forgetting what's happened but just having everything be _okay _and you letting us be your family again. I know I messed it up the first time around, I know I should have been there more and made sure Bruce was there for you too, and we weren't, not like we should have been. I just wanted to love you like you deserve to be… And if you and Bruce could set aside your differences even for an evening… Then this is all worth it."

Jason stared at him, confused and shocked, not knowing what to say. "D-Dick…"

Dick cupped his face in both hands, looking at him with this broken expression that just looked so damn _grateful _that it sent Jason's head spinning. Dick was genuinely, insanely happy about this and where Jason had been prepared for and expecting anger, he got this tenderness instead. And suddenly, he could see it too, patching things up with the family, playing by the rules, never being Robin again, but being a part of a family again. Of their family. It would be complicated and messy, he'd fuck up occasionally or Bruce would, or he'd step on someone's toes or bad memories would get stirred up. It would be far from perfect and it would probably be just as painful as it would be healing. And he could see it all because Dick wanted it so _badly. _Not only that, but Dick didn't want it because of some misplaced guilt or obligation, like Bruce would, Dick wanted it because he loved Jason. Because he cared for him.

"Heh. You're breaking my heart, Dickie…" he said, trying to make it a joke, but his voice shook too much. He touched Dick's cheek, trying to steady his hands, smiling faintly. "Let's just focus on getting this asshole and then… then we'll see." He murmured, shrugging a bit. "I'm pretty used to hanging around here now and I… I don't want to leave anytime soon."

Dick kissed him elatedly, all thoughts of betrayal or lingering headache forgotten.

Jason was going to come home.


	10. Chapter 8

**What is this? Can it be? Did I finally get off my fat ass and finish the chapter!**

**Lo and behold, readers! Because I finally did! Enjoy XD  
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When Dick woke up it was morning. He felt hazy, disoriented, like he was hungover, but he didn't remember drinking anything. In fact, he didn't remember much. He thought back, confused, ignoring the twinges of pain throbbing through his temples. He remembered getting ready for patrol, having his usual bowl of cereal and then… nothing. Blackness.

"Jay?" He called shakily, sitting up on the bed and holding on to his aching head.

"Hey, Goldie." Jason greeted as he came into the room, dressed in nothing but a pair of low riding grey jogging pants. He kept his voice low in deference to Dick's headache, sitting on the bed next to him.

Dick looked at him, blinking a few times and wincing. "Jay… What happened?" he wondered. "My head is killing me and I don't remember anything…"

Jason sighed. "I drugged you."

"…What?" Dick stared at him, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. "I'm sorry, you did _what?"_

Jason had pondered lying, telling Dick that he'd been hit on the head during patrol and that he needed to stay off the streets awhile to nurse the concussion, but it just didn't play out for him. He couldn't lie to that face, and Dick was not a child for him to coddle. He deserved the truth.

"Let me explain why I did it, then you can beat on me until you feel better about it, but I was backed into a corner, Goldie…"

He told him everything about it, how he'd called Bruce behind his back, how freaked out he was about how Dick had been acting, what they had found out about Dick's stalker and how they had threatened Jason. He said it all in a clinical monotone, a familiar tone that they all used when they were reporting facts on a case. Dick listened, pushing past the headache, and watched the emotions burn behind Jason's eyes as he went through it all.

"So, let me get this straight… Not only did you drug me, you also lied to me, talked to Bruce behind my back and tried to go after whoever is doing this while keeping me out of the loop?" Dick said in an equally clinical voice, making Jason wince and look away, the younger man's jaw tightening as he steeled himself.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it." He told him, bracing.

Dick looked at him, silence reigning for a few moments before he just reached out and buried his face in Jason's stubbly neck. He was always warm, Dick thought to himself, warm and rough. "I should kick your ass." He said, "But… the thought of you and Bruce and Tim all working together like that without fighting is… Heh, it's better than Christmas."

He broke out in a wide, watery smile, holding on to Jason tightly while the younger man just looked a little stunned. Dick squeezed him tight and continued. "I have these fantasies, you know? Of bringing you home with me and having it be okay. Not perfect, not forgetting what's happened but just having everything be _okay _and you letting us be your family again. I know I messed it up the first time around, I know I should have been there more and made sure Bruce was there for you too, and we weren't, not like we should have been. I just wanted to love you like you deserve to be… And if you and Bruce could set aside your differences even for an evening… Then this is all worth it."

Jason stared at him, confused and shocked, not knowing what to say. "D-Dick…"

Dick cupped his face in both hands, looking at him with this broken expression that just looked so damn _grateful _that it sent Jason's head spinning. Dick was genuinely, insanely happy about this and where Jason had been prepared for and expecting anger, he got this tenderness instead. And suddenly, he could see it too, patching things up with the family, playing by the rules, never being Robin again, but being a part of a family again. Of their family. It would be complicated and messy, he'd fuck up occasionally or Bruce would, or he'd step on someone's toes or bad memories would get stirred up. It would be far from perfect and it would probably be just as painful as it would be healing. And he could see it all because Dick wanted it so _badly. _Not only that, but Dick didn't want it because of some misplaced guilt or obligation, like Bruce would, Dick wanted it because he loved Jason. Because he cared for him.

"Heh. You're breaking my heart, Dickie…" he said, trying to make it a joke, but his voice shook too much. He touched Dick's cheek, trying to steady his hands, smiling faintly. "Let's just focus on getting this asshole and then… then we'll see." He murmured, shrugging a bit. "I'm pretty used to hanging around here now and I… I don't want to leave anytime soon."

Dick kissed him elatedly, all thoughts of betrayal or lingering headache forgotten.

Jason was going to come home.

/

They talked about how it would go, how they would organize it. Whoever had been watching them obviously only did it at night, otherwise there would have been something regarding their identities by now, some sort of blackmail. A lucky break to say the least, but just in case they'd started taking extra precautions when heading out on patrol on night. It wasn't exactly fun, but they managed. Robin and Batman had been covering their backs as well, a fact that more often than not left Jason with warning tingles up and down his spine.

He wanted to get over the paranoia for Dick's sake, but it was hard when he still half expected to get his ass thrown in jail any day now. Dick did his best to be reassuring but considering the fact that his lover/brother was running hot and cold just then it wasn't exactly the best time to have him easing Jason's fears.

There were still bouts of moodiness, wild changes that Jason had no chance to prepare for. Dick would go into sudden tempers, the likes of which Jason had only seen Bruce prompt in the past. He tore violently at people, beating them to pulps, standing there panting and trembling until Jason finally pulled him close and took him home, the two of them sitting on the couch with Jason's fingers running through Dick's hair over and over.

It wasn't long before Batman and Robin got wind of the outbursts and Nightwing was asked to step down for a while. It had taken a lot of convincing on Jason's part but they had both decided to take a break from the job until they could get a handle on everything again. Jason wasn't used to all this constant company since his Robin days, and he hated to admit that he'd missed the companionship, but he had. Just the idea of having someone there to reach out to when the nightmares came. The way that they began to know each other. Like how he knew how Dick liked his coffee and would make it for him, and how Dick knew that he liked to take ridiculously hot showers. How, when they were in a sexual mood, Jason learned not to pin Dick's legs down, because it reminded him of things too much, but he felt free as long as his legs could move. How Dick learned in a similar vein that certain scars of Jason's were best not touched or paid attention to.

Finding things to do was beginning to be a problem. Without patrol to wear them out they found themselves with an excess of energy. Whenever Dick wasn't working (he thankfully kept better control without the mask) they would go out during the day. Cafes, bookshops, movie dates, festivals and Ferris wheels. They did just about every typical date thing that Dick could think of and which made Jason flustered and bashful. Bars and clubs were easier for him, a little less romantic and a little more fun. They were both watching each other's intake though, and neither of them got really drunk. Still, a light buzz made dark corner make out sessions feel just a little more detached from the rest of the world, and that was exactly what they wanted right now.

Some nights they didn't go anywhere, and those were harder. Because Jason still had his own issues to work through about family and Bruce and Tim, but right now he was the one that had to talk to them because Dick was too ashamed. And he got frustrated, growling at Bruce through the phone and telling him that _no_ he wasn't going to let him replant all the cameras they'd removed because _dammit, Bruce, _they were allowed some damn privacy to work through this! Tim was easier to deal with and that was hard all on its own because Jason had been thinking horrible things about that kid ever since he'd found out he was Robin and now he was actually starting to like him and the guilt was like lead poisoning his stomach. He tried to be nicer to him, vividly remembering the things he'd planned to do to him, the attacks he'd worked out, and the joy he'd taken in them at the time. He worked hard to try and make up for them. He understood now that it wasn't Tim's fault what had happened to him. Bruce, he would never really forgive. He could never look at the man he'd thought of as father the same ever again. But there was something to be said about patching things up. The scars remained and never healed, but the parts could be usable again. And that was how he thought of his relationship with Bruce and Batman now.

"How's he doing?" Tim asked quietly, sounding like he was biting his lip in that nervous way of his.

"He's having a bad night…" Jason answered. "Restless. Is there any news on the investigation?"

Tim sighed lightly. "We have nothing so far. We've been trying to find out who might be following the two of you, but near as we can tell they must be professional, because they are very good at covering their tracks. It's the type of caliber you would expect from an undercover cop or something. Anything on your end? You were named a target, have there been any threats or anything?"

Jason shook his head before he remembered he was on the phone. "No, nothing. Not even a bar brawler. Normally I attract fights by the dozens but it's been quiet." Dick's fault mainly, he couldn't exactly be his usual death-wishing self when he had the other man to look after.

Tim sighed again. "Alright, keep us posted. I don't understand why they would threaten you directly and then not make a move? The pictures have stopped too right?"

"Yeah, haven't had one for a couple days now. They just stopped for no reason."

"But nothing else unusual has happened?"

"No, nothing."

"I guess I'll talk to you later then…"

"Yeah, don't work too hard, Tim."

"See you, Jason."

He hung up with a sigh. None of this made any sense. No threats, no blackmail, no discernible motive and no updates to the website they'd found. Him and Dick were acting as much like normal people as they could manage, and the lack of weird was seriously freaking him out. In fact the only weird thing that was happening was something Dick told him was totally normal.

He didn't tell Tim but the only strange thing he'd really noticed was that he was getting a lot more attention in public than he should be. Young men and women, around his age or maybe a little older, hitting on him and offering him drinks at the bars. He'd refuse as nicely as he could manage but at lot of them were very persistent. Dick laughed it off for the most part, coming over and wrapping an arm around Jason's waist to show he was taken and pulling him away. Jason wasn't used to all the fuss, but Dick assured him that it was perfectly normal for a young attractive guy like him to get hit on when he wasn't being as prickly as he used to be. Plus, once a guy is taken he is always hit on more, that's just how it works. Jason was suspicious of it at first, but it was a lot of different people, and it would be a bit ridiculous to think they were all mysteriously working for Dick's stalker. So, weird as it was, he was forced to accept that he had somehow become more attractive and leave it at that.

He returned to Dick, who was trying to lose himself in some mindless television on the couch. Trying being the operative word. There was tension in his whole body, feet restlessly twitching and hands fiddling with the buttons on the remote. He looked up at Jason urgently when he came back. "Anything?" he asked. It broke Jason's heart that there was so little he could do to ease that tension.

"Nothing… Sorry."

He crawled on the couch with him and pulled him in against his chest, taking the remote away and putting on some soothing animal channel. Elephants. Dick liked elephants. He wrapped a leg around his to stop his twitching, holding both of his hands in his own. His presence was a balm that relaxed Dick almost immediately. They'd sleep on the couch that night, pretending everything was okay. It was almost routine now.

-/-

Bruce was nearly yanking his hair out over this investigation. They had no leads. Tracking the website was leading them nowhere and they'd gotten no hits anywhere from any of their informants. With the letters no longer being sent to Dick and no evidence on any of the previous ones they were at a dead end there too. No one had ordered a hit on Jason that they could tell, and whoever was following Dick was either a professional whose hire records they somehow couldn't find, or they were an extremely talented amateur of Tim's caliber. Since Bruce highly doubted that there was anyone as good as Tim out there, he was inclined to think that whatever professional had been hired was being paid under the counter in order to not leave a trace.

Dick wouldn't return his calls. And although he was speaking with Jason again it was obvious that Jason vastly preferred speaking to Tim. Bruce had stopped trying to call either of them. Tim was the official go-between now, which was a role he seemed comfortable with. He had a brighter look on his face after his more casual talks with Jason, like he was happier. Bruce couldn't help but wonder what Jason said to him that made him look like that, but after all the complaints he'd gotten from Jason about invading his privacy he didn't dare listen to the phone recordings.

The young Robin was working now, typing away the computer, once again trying to track down the person who had created the website. He'd been at it for hours already, typing until his fingers ached and his hands were dry and cold. Bruce didn't say so, but he was proud of that dedication. He never said so. Didn't know how to say the words except in the most impulsive of moments. And he never had moments like that with Tim. Jason and Dick had both pushed him, nudged him in whatever directions they wanted until he snapped and finally said how he felt. They'd gotten startlingly good at it. But Tim didn't push him like they did, and without that nudging he found he couldn't say a thing. He thought it was because Tim understood him better than the other two, that he already knew and therefore didn't need the outward expression.

He didn't know that it was just that Tim never expected to be praised or wanted like they had been.

The silence between them was worse than it had ever been between Batman and Robin.

And they both just thought that was how it had to be.

-/-

It was another week of this, when Dick and Jason found themselves once again at the small sports bar they'd come to enjoy spending time in, just relaxing for a night. The bartender was a small woman, somewhere between Dick and Jason's ages. She was there the most often when they were and they spoke with her often. She was sweet and they liked her. Dick for her quiet demeanor and Jason for her ability to mix his drinks as strong as he liked them. When she had to tend to other people Jason turned to Dick.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, don't know if you noticed, but the investigation is kind of in a rut. Who knows when we'll be able to crack this… Do you want to start patrolling again?" he asked him. He felt like they were doing better. Dick was having less mood swings and Jason was more comfortable with their relationship and where it was going. He felt like they could work through it together, and he hoped Dick felt that way too.

Dick smiled lightly at him, a tiny thing that showed in his eyes far more than his mouth. It was an expression that Jason had realized Dick only directed at him when he was honestly happy through the rest of the turmoil. "Maybe… Maybe not yet?" He said, tipping his drink back and forth. Jason touched his arm.

"Whatever works for you, Dickiebird. We'll go as slow as we have to." He said encouragingly. He lifted his drink in offering to Dick, who smiled wider and lifted his own drink. They clinked them together and drank. "How about we just have a good time tonight, huh?" he said, stealing a quick kiss. "Pretend we're not quite as badass as we actually are and let loose, what do you say?"

Dick grinned at him and nodded. "Yeah, sounds good to me, Jay. But if we're letting loose that means you're dancing with me tonight." He said, poking his side teasingly.

Jason rolled his eyes. "I'll look like a bumbling idiot next to you, Mr. Acrobat. No thanks."

"Aw, c'mon, Jay. Indulge me."

He would, eventually, after another drink and a lot of coaxing, join Dick on the dance floor. He still felt rough around the edges and inelegant next to Dick's graceful movements, but there was a buzz around his brain that made it all seem far less important than it normally would. Dick seemed more loose as well, leaning back on Jason and looking flushed and bright eyed. It was an attractive look on him, Jason thought.

A couple more drinks had them leaning and laughing in a private booth in the back corner of the bar. Jason couldn't remember what they were laughing about, just that it had been incredibly funny at the time. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, and it took him a few minutes to realize Dick was asleep against his chest. He shook him lightly, laughing again. Dick didn't wake up, still breathing but unmoving against Jason. Jason was tired too, he realized rather suddenly, leaning against Dick. So tired. Just a couple minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, and Dick made such a nice, unmoving pillow.

Jason's eyes snapped open when he realized. Dick was always moving, even in his sleep, he was never so still. It wasn't natural. His eyes opened on blackness, however, pitch darkness. The floor was cold under him, he was laid out on his stomach. When he tried to move his body didn't respond as fast as it should, he tugged his arms slowly, hearing the clink of chains when he shifted. He struggled harder when he heard it, fuzzy mind searching for a way to get loose. It had felt like he'd just closed his eyes a moment, but he'd obviously been out much longer.

"Dick?" he called, trying to get up on his knees, realizing that his legs were bound as well and wriggling ineffectually. "Dick?!"

"Jay?" Was the soft reply, several feet in front of him, directly across the cold room. The floor under him felt like cement, the darkness could only be explained by them being underground. "Jay? Where are we?"

"I dunno, Dickiebird. I think we were drugged." He said, cursing and shaking his head. "Dammit… I was watching our drinks! The only way it could have been was if it was-"

A door opened to Jason's left, making him cry out as the light stung his eyes. He forced them open, tears streaming down his face as a figure walked in and flicked on a switch.

His suspicions were confirmed.

It was the bartender.


End file.
